For The Nights I Can't Remember
by purplepagoda
Summary: What happens when Wilhelmina and Daniel get another moment alone after the fiasco in the elevator? Will it be war, disaster, tragedy, or something entirely different?
1. Dangerous

He stands next to her in the elevator. A scene that had occurred more than once, in so many different ways. He had been in this elevator with her–alone–before, and it had never turned out well. He sucks up his pride, and decides to be a man, once again. He stares at the floor, but then casts her gaze to her.

"You're not going to try to kiss me again are you?" she questions.

He answers softly, "No."

"So what's the look for?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask," she answers sharply.

"Why do you have to act so tough?"

She meets his glance, but doesn't say a word.

"I know that as cold as you seem, on the inside you feel things just like everyone else does."

"What makes you think that?"

"I've worked with you for a long time."

"Daniel what's your point?"

"It's ok to be broken-hearted."

"I'm not broken-hearted."

"Don't lie to me. I don't believe you."

"That's your choice."

"You loved him, I know that you're broken-hearted. I can tell by the look in your eyes."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Am I?"

"I'm fine," she insists as she chokes back tears. Her jaw tightens, and she stares at the door.

He brushes a hair from her face, and tucks it behind her ear. "No you're not. I know how much it hurts. You might feel the need to put up a wall between yourself, and the rest of the world, but it isn't impenetrable."

"Why is this elevator taking so long?"

"Let me buy you a drink," he offers.

"Is this you trying to seduce me? Again?"

"No," he answers solemnly, "This is me extending an olive branch. I'm trying to be your friend."

"I don't need friends."

"You don't? It's pretty lonely at the top. How are you enjoying the view?"

She gives him a terrible look.

He apologizes, "I'm sorry, that was harsh."

"Don't you have a filter?"

"What?"

"Do you always say exactly what you think?"

"I wish."

"Honesty isn't always the best policy," she reminds him.

"Speaking of honesty, can you answer one more question?"

"What?" she snarls.

"Was the therapist wrong?"

She looks at him for a moment and then looks away. He expects for her to walk away as the doors of the elevator open. Instead she steps out of the doors and turns back, looking at him. "Not entirely," she admits.

"So are you going to let me buy you a drink or not?"

"Fine," she agrees, reluctantly.

They get in a car together, and head to a club. He orders them drinks. She stares at hers as he quickly downs him.

"Are you trying to use your mind powers?"

"Sorry," she apologizes and drinks the alcohol.

"Another?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Why not?"

She lets her guard down for a moment and answers in candor, "I don't want to end up like your mother. A sad, broken-hearted, drunk."

"Understood."

"We should dance."

"You want to dance? With me?"

"Why not? Our relationship couldn't get much more awkward."

"True."

"You know that I still hate you right?" she questions as they move to the dance floor.

"Yes bitch," he answers.

Instead of punching him she steps closer. "At least I know who I am."

"More fake than Barbie, that takes talent, but you pull it off."

She glares at him, "At least I'm not a whore."

"I'm not a whore. Take it back."

"I'm sorry that was unfair, you're a man-whore."

They move in even closer. His hand grabs her ass. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You tell me."

"We should go."

"Fine," he agrees.

They leave the club. They hop into the town car. They sit as far apart as possible. Somehow her hand ends up on his leg. He looks at her, and moves closer. Her hands begins drifting upward from his knee.

"Tell me when to stop," she smiles devilishly.

He turns and moves toward her. She finds herself pinned between Daniel, and the seat. She feels his warm breath as he whispers, "Do you always get the last word?"

She pushes him off of her, back into a sitting position. Seconds later he finds her straddling him. She begins removing his tie. "Not always, but I always get my way," she whispers into his ear as she removes the tie. She unbuttons the first button of his shirt. He reaches for her zipper.

"Tell me when to stop," he begs her.

She doesn't say a word, she simply continues to undress him. She's only a few buttons in when the car comes to a halt. They look out the window to realize that they're at her building. She gets off him, and slides out. He waits for permission.

"Are you going to be a man or not?" she questions.

He jumps out of the car, and follows her into the building. They attempt to keep some distance on the elevator ride to her apartment. She quickly opens the door of her apartment. They both step through the door. She shuts the door and locks it. She turns to face him, and he pushes her against the door. He starts kissing her neck as she continues to undress him. She tosses his shirt, and begins to unbuckle his belt.

"Wait."

She takes a breath, and lets go of his belt. "What?" she questions sharply.

"What are we doing?"

"Daniel shut up and be a man." She demands. He looks into her eyes and sees the fire in them. He spins her around and unzips her dress. She tosses his belt aside as her dress falls to the floor. They move away from the door, she slips out of her shoes an arm's length away. Their clothing diminishes with each step toward her bedroom. ~~~~~~

He lies in bed next to her. They both breath heavily. He stares at the ceiling unsure what to say. He turns to look at her, and finds that she's staring at him.

"I should probably get going," he tells her.

There is silence for several seconds. He waits for her permission. Without warning she's on top of him. He studies her facial expression for clues. Her face moves closer to his. Her mouth is next to his ear when she stops moving. "You're not going anywhere," she tells him.


	2. Signs

She looks around the room at the people surrounding her. She could end this right now, tell all of them, but that wouldn't be any fun. She allows Daniel to command the meeting, and pretends to be unhappy.

After everyone has left for the day she finds herself in his office. She takes a seat on his desk.

"Can I help you?"

"I don't want you to get the wrong impression," she admits.

"I think that I get the picture."

"I..."

He cuts her off, "You don't want to change, and that's fine with me. I don't expect you to change."

"This is not a relationship," she adds.

"It's just sex, and that's fine with me. I'm not looking for a relationship right now. But I have to admit it is nice to finally have a little common ground between us."

"I agree."

"What are you still doing here anyway?"

"I was waiting for everyone else to leave."

"Why? What are you up to?"

"Nothing," she answers devilishly.

"So then why are you looking at me like that for?"

"I just thought that since last night was so..."

"Incredible."

"Maybe we could try it again."

"Here?"

She gets off the desk and moves over to his chair. She takes a seat in his lap. Centimeters from his she asks, "I don't know. You tell me."

He smiles and lifts him onto his desk. He draws the blinds and shuts the door. She grabs onto his tie and pulls him onto the desk next to her. They furiously rip each other's clothing off.

"Do you have to wear so many layers?" she scolds.

"It wouldn't be as exciting if I didn't."

"The clothes don't make the man," she warns.

"Fey just rolled over in her grave."

"Enough conversation," she growls.

After their encounter they leave Mode, going their separate ways. It's just nearly midnight when he falls asleep. He's dreaming about her when there is a knock on the door. He opens his eyes and scrambles to the door in his boxers. He opens the door without looking through the peephole. He finds Wilhelmina standing in front of him in her coat, and heels.

"I thought that you went home."

"Are you going to let me in?"

He stands before he silently. She pushes past him, and spins him around, closing the door. He just stares at her.

"You can pick your jaw off the ground at any time," she tells him.

"Sorry," he apologizes, "Can I take your coat?"

She allows the coat to fall to the ground. His eyes light up as she stands before him in nothing but stilettos. She smiles, and kicks off the heels. He clears the coffee table. She places her manicured hands on his chest.

"That won't hold us."

He doesn't argue. He leads her toward the bedroom, but they never make it. When he wakes up he's on the floor with a pillow under his head and a sheet over him. He gets off the floor and finds the apartment empty. He finds his boxer's halfway down the hall, he walks past them on the way to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and steps in. When he finishes his shower he assesses the damage in the mirror. There are fresh scratches on his back and rug burns on various body parts. He quickly gets dressed and heads to work.

Just after eleven Amanda waltzes into his office.

"I've got a message for you."

"What?"

"Wilhelmina wants to meet you for lunch. She says it's a budgeting emergency."

"Hold my calls?" he questions as he grabs his jacket.

She nods as he walks out the door. He jumps into the black SUV with dark tinted windows that is waiting on him. He sends Wilhelmina a text. The car starts moving before he can get a response.

"Where are we going?"he questions the driver.

He gets no response. The car drives for fifteen minutes it pulls into a dark, nearly empty, garage. The vehicle pulls into a spot and the engine stops. The driver's door opens, and closes. The back door opens and Wilhelmina slips into the backseat.

"Where is the driver?"

"I let him go," she answers.

"You fired him?"

"No. He went to lunch," she replies.

"I see."

That night he works late. He hear footsteps approach his office. He looks up but finds someone other than who he expected. He looks up at her trying not to seem disappointed. She silently comes into his office and shuts his door.

"Do you need something?" he questions.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course. Why are you still here?"

"I was waiting until everyone else left."

"Why?"

"I wanted to make sure that she was gone."

"Who?"

"Wilhelmina," Betty answers.

"Ok," he looks at her curiously.

"How long?"

"How long what?" he questions.

"Have you been sleeping with her? I know that it's not any of my business, but I can't sit by and say nothing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he responds.

"I forgot my laptop here the other night."

"And?" he tries to play it cool.

"I saw things that I wish I hadn't."

"What do you think that you saw?"

"She was sitting on your desk, and then... I left when the blinds got closed."

"It's not what you think."

"You're not having mindless sex with her?"

"Ok it's what you think, but it's not like it sounds."

"It's not? Why would you sleep with her?"

"Why do you care?"

"She's the devil. Of all people I thought that you knew that. She uses people, manipulates them into doing exactly what she wants. This is not in innocence, or fun."

"I don't expect you to understand Betty."

"Try to explain it."

"We're just both at awkward times in our lives. We're both just looking for..."

"A fuck buddy?"

"Someone to satisfy our physical needs."

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Like what?"

"Never mind."

"No tell me," he begs.

"No," she disagrees.

"Why not?"

"Because I think that it's already too late."

"For what?"

"To warn you about falling for her."

"I'm not falling for her."

"No, you already have."

"You're wrong," he argues.

"You'll see," she warns as she walks away.


	3. I Hate This Part

He tries not to look at her. Her takes a deep breath and pulls back the covers.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"I thought that you were asleep."

"You think a lot of things."

He rolls over and looks at her, "Tell me what I think."

"You think that I don't care what you think."

"Maybe," he shrugs.

She rolls over to look at him, "I'm sure I'm going to hate myself for asking, but what's bothering you?"

"Betty knows."

"Knows what?"

"About us?"

"What about _us_?"

"She saw us the other night in my office."

"I'll take care of it."

"No, it's ok. She won't tell anyone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he nods, "I should probably get going."

"Ok," she answers numbly.

He pulls on his boxers, but hesitates on the edge of the bed. She lays in the bed with her back to him.

"Are you going or not?" she asks coldly.

He crawls back into the bed. He stops with his lips centimeters from her ear. "You know what I think. Why don't you ever let me know what you think?"

She rolls over and looks at him. "What I think doesn't matter."

"According to who?"

"You should go," she answers.

"Do you want me to go?"

"Just sex," she reminds him, "It's just sex," she rationalizes.

"I'll go, but if only you want me to."

"I'm not going to stop you," she answers.

"I know that you won't stop me. What I want to know is if you want me to go."

"Do whatever you want Daniel."

He lays down beside her. He wraps his arm around her. "You should go to sleep," he tells her. Thinking to himself, _I just want you._

When she wakes up he's gone. She finds a note on her bedside stand. _W, went home. Had to shower and change before work. D. _She crumples the note into a ball and tosses it across the room haphazardly.

Marc is waiting on Betty in the hallway when she leaves her apartment.

"Where is Amanda?"

"She went for a doughnut before work."

"Marc I know something juicy."

He cuts her off, "Spill."

"I don't know if I should tell anyone," she answers as they head down the hall.

"Tell me, just me."

"If I tell you, you will tell everyone."

"No I won't. I swear," he smiles giddily.

"No one can find out, or she'll kill me."

"I've got to know. Please tell me."

"I just don't know how I feel about it. The whole thought just creeps me out."

"Please share. I need to know."

"You're not going to like it, or maybe you will."

"Just tell me. The anticipation is killing me."

"I shouldn't tell you."

"Who is it about?" he questions as they make their descent from the stairs.

"Daniel."

"Oh, then you don't have to tell me."

"And Wilhelmina."

"What about them? Wait is this about them separately or... I'm confused."

"They're having sex."

"With who?"

"Each other," Betty clarifies.

"Dan... with," Marc pulls out his inhaler and takes a puff. He offers it to Betty.

"I haven't told you the worst part yet."

"What part?"

"I think that Daniel is falling for him."

"That's so sad."

"Why is that sad?"

"Because she'll eat him alive," Marc answers.

"I know."

"I can't believe that she'd stoop to his level. I mean I know that the woman has needs, but she could certainly find someone one more suitable to meet them."

"Why are we getting so upset? It's nothing. They are two adults and they can handle their own choices."

"Betty, Daniel can't handle his own mother."

"True," she nods.

"And this has to end at some point. Willie gets bored easily," Marc admits.

"It will end badly."

"So badly," he agrees.

"It will probably rip the company apart," she adds.

"And everyone will have to pick sides."

"I'm thinking about switching sides," Betty admits.

"What? You're going to come over to the dark side? As much as I love that you're considering it, I have to ask why."

"Wilhelmina always wins."

"That's why you're switching sides?"

"And I'm sick of playing along with Daniel's stupid games."

"And?"

"Wilhelmina deserves to be on top."

"Ladies and Gentlemen I'd like to welcome Betty Suarez to team Slater."

"I have no choice. She's more qualified."

"And?"

"Sometimes you have to play dirty to get what you want."

"My question is, what does she want?"

"Control?"

"She's already got that."

"The company," Betty suggests.

"Pretty much already hers."

"To win?"

"Done," Marc answers.

"To crush Daniel?"

"Doubtful. She's got to be getting tired of doing that by now."

"Maybe it's just sex," Betty suggests.

"I never thought of that."


	4. Fill Me In

Weeks later Wilhelmina and Daniel are still at it, and Betty and Marc are the only other people who know.

"Marc," she barks.

He scampers into her office with his head down.

"Pack your bags," she demands.

"Where are we going?"

"Out of town."

"Ok," he agrees.

Hours later he joins her in a private plane. As the doors of the plane close he looks over at her. She stares out the window through wide rimmed sunglasses. "What?" she snarls without looking at him.

"Where are we going? Not that I'm complaining, or questioning your motives. I'm just curious."

"We're going to the beach for the weekend."

"Why am I going?"

"To be my chore-boy."

"Of course," he nods.

"Marc if you have something to say, then say it."

"Where are we going?"

She tosses him a sleeping mask, "I'll wake you when we get there."

"Willie, please."

"Don't be such a baby."

"Fine," he pulls on the mask and closes his eyes.

When he awakens he pulls off his mask and finds her staring down at him. "Are you going to stay on the plane?" she questions.

He jumps up and follows her off the plane. They get into a car that takes them to a nice beach-side resort. Wilhelmina tosses her suitcase in the room, and pulls on her sunglasses. Marc follows her out to the pool. She lays a towel over a chair, and takes a seat. He takes a seat at her feet.

"We came to Miami to sit by the pool?"

"It's warm here," she reminds him.

"Right," he nods.

"And I prefer a natural tan."

"Why are we here?"

"You're here to be my chore boy."

"And you?"

"I'm here on a two day vacation."

"Seriously? You don't take vacations."

"Marc go lay out somewhere," she demands as she kicks off her heels.

"Does this have to do with Daniel?"

She moves her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and glares at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he looks away.

"What did you just say?"

"Something incredibly stupid," he admits.

"Why did you ask me that?"

"Betty told me."

"Of course she did. Who else knows?"

"No one," he answers.

"You're here to work. I'm going to need two hundred words on Miami by the time we leave."

"What about Miami?"

"Figure it out," Wilhelmina answers coldly.

"Talk to me," Marc begs.

"No."

"Why not? It's a private pool. There's no one else here."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not? Are things going badly?"

"Marc. I'm exhausted. I came to Miami to nap by the pool, and get a tan while doing it."

"You came to Miami to sleep?"

"Yes," she answers.

"Why?"

"Because I'm exhausted."

"You're Wilhelmina Slater, you're a robot, you don't require sleep."

"I need sleep, and I'm not going to get any in New York."

"So you haven't been sleeping?"

"When would I have time to sleep?"

"At night?"

"Wrong."

"You seem on edge why don't I get you a drink?"

"I don't want a drink, I just want a damn nap," she snaps.

"Sorry."

"I shouldn't take my frustration out on you."

"What are you frustrated about?"

"I've met my match," she admits.

"I don't understand."

"I'm sexed out," she answers.

"What does that mean?"

"I've spent the last few weeks having incredible sex, and I'm miserable."

"Why?"

"I'm completely exhausted."

"You can't be having that much sex. You work twelve hours a day."

"Daniel's there too."

"Is that where you've been going at lunch?"

"Between meetings, after work, before work, and even at work."

"So tell him that you've had enough."

"I can't," she admits.

"Why?"

"Because I want it just as much as he does."

"I find that hard to believe," he replies trying not to vomit.

"I can't be within a hundred yard radius of him without wanting to rip his clothes off."

"As happy as I am for you, I'd prefer not to know the details. It is Daniel and..."

"I know. That's the worst part. It's Daniel."

"So find someone else to meet your needs."

"I can't."

"Sure you can."

"You don't understand."

"You're absolutely right. I don't understand. You hate him why would you want to sleep with him?"

"That's the exciting part," she admits.

He doesn't say a word hoping she'll stop there. "The possibility that you might rip each other into tiny pieces."

Marc makes a gagging noise, "I shouldn't have asked," he admits.

"Can I have my nap now?" she questions.

"By all means," he agrees.

* * *

_A/N: Having a little writer's block. Any suggestions?_


	5. Just Fine

After returning from Miami Wilhelmina has a nice tan, but finds herself extremely jet-lagged. She goes to take a bath. In the bathroom she finds an extra toothbrush. In her closet she finds a change of men's clothing, and a pair of size ten men's loafers. She climbs into bed only to realize that it smells like him. She rips apart the bed. Tosses bedclothes everywhere. She grabs her two pillows and heads to the guest bedroom. She opens the closet and pulls out fresh pillow cases. She replaces her pillow cases and crawls into bed in frustration.

He lays in his bed under a sheet, wide awake. He stares at the ceiling thinking about how quiet it is without her. He sees something shiny in the hallway. He climbs out of bed. He picks her watch up off the floor. He wanders into the living room and takes a seat on the couch. He stares at the watch. He leans against the cushion only to find something jabbing him in the back. He moves the pillow and finds her bra underneath. He collapses, face first in the couch. The pillow under his face smells of her perfume. He tosses the pillow across the room. "This sucks," he tells himself.

She wanders into the kitchen and gets a glass of water. Her phone begins vibrating on the counter. She grabs it and looks at the text message. _Can't sleep. D. _She smiles for a brief second. _Heading to bed now. _She types back.

He smiles at her text. He takes a deep breath and replies, _My bed is pretty lonely._ _Come over._

Against her better judgement she picks up the phone and dials his number.

"Hello?" he answers.

"I'm in my pajamas," she tells him.

"Describe them to me."

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed," she tells him.

"Ouch."

"Goodnight Daniel," she hangs up.

She heads back to her room, and sheds her robe. She pulls his t-shirt out of her closet and slips it on. She returns to the guest bedroom, but sleep eludes her. An hour later she hears footsteps. A man slips into bed next to her quietly.

"Not tonight," she tells him.

"I thought that you were sleeping," he admits.

"I'm not."

"Why are you in the guest bedroom?"

"It's quiet in here," she lies.

"I see," he kisses her neck.

She rolls over and pushes him away, "Not tonight," she repeats.

He places his hand on her waist. "What are you wearing?" he questions.

"Nothing," she lies.

"Goodnight," he tells her.

When she wakes up his arms are around her. She hear him breathing, and she tries to slip away unnoticed.

"I'm not asleep," he tells her.

She rolls over to look at him. Her eyes search his.

"What?"

"I never agreed to this," she reminds him.

"To what?"

"I never said anything about you sleeping in my bed."

"I apologize."

"You should go."

"Can I shower first? It's almost time for work."

"If you must," she responds coldly.

He leaves her, and goes into the bathroom. The hot water brings him into reality. It feels good on his skin, but not as good as her. He pushes the thought from his mind as he reaches for the soap. The bathroom door opens, and then closes. Seconds later the shower door swings open and she steps in.

"Don't get me wet," she tells him.

He smiles devilishly, "I can't make any promises."

"The water will ruin my hair," she clarifies.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you," he answers.

"Are we going to stand in here in talk or..."

He cuts her off with a kiss.

When she arrives at the office Marc is waiting in her office.

"Yes Marc?"

"You're late," he points out.

"What do you need?" she snarls.

"I just wanted to drop off my piece."

"Why didn't you just email it to me?"

"I did."

"So why are you delivering it in person?"

"I brought you a present," he admits handing her a bag.

She opens the bag and looks inside. She looks up at him. "Really?"

"I thought you might need a couple extra, just so it doesn't burn when you pee."

"If that's all, you can go."

"One more thing."

"What?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Fabulous walk of shame."

"Go," she demands.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"Don't let it happen again."

"So I take it that you saw you know who this morning."

"I saw him on the elevator," she admits.

"Right," he nods.

"Do you need something?"

"No. I'll go. I think that I'm going to grab a muffin."

"Then go."

"You want one?"

"No. What I want is for you to leave me alone."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I fix your problems."

"I don't have a problem."

"You don't?" He stares her down.

She glares back, "He has a toothbrush at my apartment."

"So?"

"My bed smells like him."

"That's bound to happen."

"He has a change of clothes in my closet."

"Why?"

She doesn't reply.

"You're not in a relationship with him are you?"

"No."

"But?"

"His crap is at my apartment."

"So tell him to take it home."

"I don't want to."

Marc gasps. "You did not just say that. You need to see a shrink."

"I'm fine."

"I'm worried about you. I'm fairly certain that Hell just froze over, and I could swear I just saw a pig fly by the window."


	6. Don't Look Down

She comes into his office while there are still people lingering.

"What do you need?" he questions casually.

"I can't do this anymore," she tells him.

"Do what?"

"Whatever it is that we're doing."

"Will..."

"Daniel I'm concerned."

"About what?"

"That you're making this into something more than it is."

"I don't think now is the best time."

"You're right. We'll discuss it later.

"I'm going to a party tonight. We can do lunch tomorrow."

"Ok," she agrees.

She's staring at her computer screen the next morning when Marc comes into her office. He starts yammering, she never meets his gaze. Half way through his monologue he stops. He waves his hand in front of her face.

"Hello?"

She looks up at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear a word you just said," she admits.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," she lies.

He flips the laptop around and finds pictures from the night before.

"Why are you looking at these?"

"I don't know."

"Stop," he orders.

"Marc..."

He stops her, "Does this bother you? Seeing him with other girls? Because if it does then I think that you need to reevaluate."

"It doesn't bother me. I know how he is."

"But?"

"But nothing. What did you need?"

"Nothing. I'll figure it out."

"Ok," she nods.

Before she meets Daniel for lunch she spends an hour on the phone. He comes into her office as she hangs up.

"Ready?"

"Let's go," she answers.

He takes her to a private restaurant. They order drinks, and their meals. She says nothing.

"Wilhelmina. You haven't said anything. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," she lies.

"Why are you being so quiet?"

"No reason."

"I hate this. Why can't you just be normal? Just say what you think."

"I think that you're a jerk," she answers.

"Where did that come from?"

"I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be completely honest."

"Of course," he nods in agreement.

"How many women have you been with?"

He looks at her in confusion.

"Since we started this?"

He looks into her eyes, "None," he answers with a look of guilt.

She nods, and calmly pushes the chair away from the table, as she fights the tears collecting in her eyes. She grabs her bag and leaves.

Meanwhile in another restaurant Betty sits across from Claire Meade.

"You're being quiet today Betty."

"Sorry. I just don't want to say the wrong thing."

"The wrong thing? About what?"

"Nothing."

"About who?"

"No one," she picks at her food.

"Betty tell me."

"It's about Wilhelmina."

"What about her?"

"The things she's been doing lately make me feel concerned about the company."

"What is she doing?"

"You know what? I probably shouldn't have said anything."

"Tell me."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why? What is she doing now?"

Betty takes a deep breath and answers, "Daniel."

"Excuse me?"

"She and Daniel are... you know what I don't know what they're doing exactly."

"What do you know?"

"They're having sex with each other."

"Had, or are having?"

"It's been going on for a few months."

"What is she up to now?"

"It's hard to tell."

That night when nearly everyone has left Wilhelmina sits at her desk. There is a knock on her door, she looks up.

"What do you want Claire?" she asks coldly.

Claire enters the office, closing the door behind her. She calmly takes a seat across from Wilhelmina.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to go home," she answers in confusion.

"With my son?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're sleeping with him."

"Who told you that?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm not sleeping with your precious son."

"Don't play games with me Wilhelmina. Whatever you're up too..."

"What is it you think I'm up to? What could I possibly have to gain by sleeping with Daniel?"

"The title of editor."

"I could screw him senseless and he still wouldn't relinquish his co-editor in chief position."

"Thank you for that mental image."

"I'm not sleeping with him anymore. Nothing is going on between us."

"Since when?"

"Since today."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter?"

Claire says nothing.

"You don't have to worry about Daniel, or about the company. I don't want the company. I don't want Daniel. I haven't told anyone else, but I'm leaving for a while."

"Going on vacation?"

"I was offered a temporary position at British Vogue, and I'm going to take it."

"For how long?"

"Six months, maybe longer."

"You're serious?"

"I think that it's time I reevaluate things, starting with my position here."

"Best of luck," Claire answers sincerely.


	7. Let Go

She lays envelopes on his desk, and leaves Mode. On the street she looks back at the building. She tries not to cry, knowing that an era has come to an end. She takes a deep breath of the wet air, and climbs into the waiting car.

He goes into the office early the next morning, hoping that she'll be in her office. He stops by her office and finds it empty. He goes to his own office and takes a seat at his desk. He finds an envelope addressed to him, in an envelope, on her stationary. He rips it open. He reads, and re-reads the letter that is typed on her letterhead. He lays it aside, and moves onto the second envelope. He opens the envelope and pulls out a piece of paper, folded into thirds. He unfolds it and begins reading.

_Daniel, _

_I'm sorry for leaving like this. Best of luck._

_Wilhelmina_

He puts her hand-written note back into the envelope. He sets the letters aside, and stares blankly out his window. He tunes out the world.

"Daniel?" a soft voice brings him into reality.

He looks up and sees his mother before him. "What do you need?"

"What are you doing?" she asks him.

"Nothing. Do you need something?"

"Why are you sulking?"

"I'm not," he lies.

"You are."

"Mom, please, just leave it alone."

"Is this about Wilhelmina?"

"How did you know?"

"I talked to her last night."

"She left," he says in a near whisper.

"I know," Claire admits.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just found out last night."

"How am I going to replace her? No one knows this business like her."

"You'll find someone," Claire reassures him.

"Right," he scoffs with his head propped on his fist, staring into the distance.

"You're not upset because she left Mode, you're upset because she left you."

"What?" he looks up at her.

"I don't know what you said, or did, but... you screwed up."

"What I did? What I said? Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm not comfortable talking about my sex life with my mother first of all, and second of all I knew how badly you'd react."

"You should have given me some warning."

"How did you find out?" he pries.

"Not important."

"You don't understand."

"I do, unfortunately."

"You think that you do, but you don't."

"Daniel you forget sometimes that I'm your mother..."

He cuts her off, "No I don't."

"Let me finish."

"Sorry," he apologizes.

"I'm your mother, and I know you better than you know yourself."

"I doubt that."

"You didn't know that she was leaving so I'm assuming that decision was rash."

"I guess," he nods.

"So something must have happened to make her want to leave."

"I don't know what."

"Are you sure?"

He looks at his hands, and then at her. "She asked me how many women I'd been with while I was with her."

"And what did you tell her?"

"None," he answers.

"So then why do you look so guilty? If you can't convince me, why do you think you could convince her?"

"There hasn't been anyone else. I've gone out with other people, to events. But I haven't been with anyone else."

"She didn't believe you?"

"No, she stormed off."

"Why do you look so guilty?"

"You wouldn't understand. It doesn't matter anyway, it was never going to last. I had just hoped that it would end on a better note."

"As much as the thought of you being in any sort of relationship with Wilhelmina makes my stomach churn, I can tell that you were happy, and you do deserve that."

"We agreed that it wasn't a relationship. It was just, meaningless sex."

"If it was just meaningless sex, then why haven't you been with anyone else?"

He looks away.

She waits a few seconds and then answers herself, "I'll tell you why, because despite your best efforts, you've fallen for her."

"She's the devil," he answers.

"That's why you want her."

He furrows his brow, "What?"

"She is the unattainable woman."

"She's attainable, just not for me. She doesn't have any feelings for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I wouldn't let her go if I wasn't."

"She told you she didn't have feelings for you?"

"No."

"I think that you should stop her from leaving," Claire advises.

"What? You hate her."

"But you don't."

"Why does it matter? I'm sure that I'm too late."

"So you're going to give up, that easily?"

"What am I supposed to do? She doesn't love me, she never will. She's going somewhere half-way around the globe. If she wants to go, I won't stop her."

"Do you know how many times anyone has ever told her no?"

"She never listens to them."

"Maybe it's because no one has asked her the right way, yet."

"Are you defending her?"

"No. I'm not. I can't stand the woman. She makes the devil look good. I can see how much you're hurting, and if it's because of her, then you should tell her."

"I should pursue her, even though she's uninterested?"

"I don't think that she's uninterested."

"Why do you say that? Did she tell you? Are you guys best buds now?"

"I know her. She either traps people, or pushes them away. If you're part of her scheme she traps you, if you get to close she'll push you away, every time."

"Why?" he questions.

"Because then you'd find out who she really is, that she's not a robot that the devil put together with spare parts. Heaven forbid anyone ever found out that she's got a heart, somewhere, way, deep, inside."

"How would you know?"

"I knew her before she was Wilhelmina. I knew her when she was nobody."


	8. Never Goin' Back

She stares out the window as she sits on the tarmac. She says nothing. She fastens her seat belt, and takes deep breath, praying that take-off will be delayed. She stares at the airport and prays that he stops the plane. The door closes and she watches as the tunnel recedes.

He stares silently out his window, as a jet from JFK glides across the sky. He goes back to the office and returns to his desk. He takes a deep breath and starts going through the stack of papers. Before he can stop himself he's dialing her number. It goes straight to voicemail. He waits and then leaves a message.

"Hey, it's me. I just wanted to wish you the best of luck. I'm gonna miss you," he hangs up. He fights back the tears.

Everyone else on the flight is drinking, or sleeping. The flight attendant offers her a drink, but she declines, not wanting to go down that road. The last thing that she needed was to drown her sorrows. She had enough problems, this one didn't need to be added to the list.

He wanders into her office as the moving men are packing up her things. He grabs a glass, and pours himself a drink of her liquor. He sits at her desk, and watches silently as they empty the office. When they're done there is little evidence she was ever there. The office is void of any of her personal effects. It contains only a desk, a computer, a couple of chairs, and a chaise. He pours himself another drink, as they turn the lights off.

Betty walks into Wilhelmina's office.

"Don't," he warns as she reaches for the light switch.

"Daniel everyone is talking. What should I say?"

"That she took another job," he answers.

"They want to know why."

"She decided it was time to move on."

"Are you ready to move on?"

"Don't worry about me."

"This isn't healthy."

"Please go," he begs solemnly.

She leaves.

Days, weeks, months pass, but nothing goes back to normal. Wilhelmina's office sits empty, and Daniel triples his work load. He often finds himself staying all night. One day Betty decides that it's enough and makes a phone call. The voice on the other end drones, "You have reach a number that has been disconnected." She hangs up, and makes a few more phone calls.

Finally she gets a hold of the secretary at British Vogue.

"May I speak to Wilhelmina Slater?" Betty questions after the secretary greets her.

"Who should I say is calling?"

Betty hesitates for a moment, trying to come up with a good cover, finally she answers, "Nora Ephron."

"Ok."

The receptionist puts Betty on hold, and dials Wilhelmina's line. "Wilhlemina Slater," she answers.

"Miss Slater you have a phone call."

"Who's calling?"

"Nora Ephron."

"Nora Ephron? Are you sure?"

"That's who she said she was."

"Put her through," Wilhelmina agrees.

The receptionist puts the call through, "Wilhelmina Slater," she answers again.

"Wilhelmina..."

"Betty how did you get this number?"

"It's a long story."

"Please don't tell me."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Why are you calling me?"

"I need you to come back to Mode," she answers.

"_You_ need _me _to come back to Mode?"

"Yes," Betty admits.

"Why?"

"Please just come back," Betty begs.

"What's going on?" she questions.

"Everything is a disaster. We need you."

"I'm glad that you think so, but you don't make those decisions," Wilhelmina points out.

"I am now. I get to do the hiring, and firing."

"Daniel let's you do that?"

"If I didn't do it, it wouldn't get done."

"Why are you doing the hiring and firing?"

"Daniel has too many other things to worry about."

"What is his creative director doing?"

"He didn't hire anyone to replace you," Betty admits.

"For budget reasons?"

"No. He didn't even look for anyone to fill your position."

"Betty I can't help you. I have a contractual obligation, and I don't plan on coming back..."

Betty cuts her off, "He's not man enough to ask you to come back, because then he'd have to admit that he needs you."

"I know."

"You don't. He's lost without you. He works, and drinks, he doesn't even leave most of the time. He basically lives in his office. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but we need you here. Daniel doesn't care about Mode like you do."

"Betty I can't leave. You've got to understand that."

"Can't or won't?"

"I should get going."

"Wait, there's one more thing."

"What?"

"He tried to stop you," Betty reveals.

"What are you talking about?"

"He went to the airport, to talk you out of going. By the time he got there your plane was taxiing down the runway. He took it as sign."

Wilhelmina says nothing.

"Don't try to convince me that he was the only one who was interested in more than sex."

"Betty..." Wilhelmina tries to stop her.

"After all, that is why you left isn't it? You started having feelings for him?"

"I left because I was offered a better job."

"That's never been enough before."

"I've got to go," she hangs up.


	9. The Way Love Goes

He's sitting on his couch, nursing his scotch. His phone starts ringing. He carefully sits his drink on the coffee table. He throws cushions, tosses jackets, and digs in the couch for the phone. Finally he finds it between the couch cushions. By the time he gets to it, it has stopped ringing. He sighs, and checks the screen. He dials his voicemail.

A familiar voice comes begins to speak, "I got a call from Betty earlier, she's really worried about you. Don't do anything stupid, while I'm not there to kick your ass," the message ends. He saves it, and plays it two more times. On the third time he struggles with tears, and anger. He picks up his drink. It feels warm as he forces the rest of it down his throat. He takes the glass and chucks it against the wall. It shatters into pieces. He gets off the couch, and goes into his room. He crawls into bed, and puts a fluffy, feather pillow over his head.

He tosses and turns, and sleep never comes. He returns to the living room, and retrieves his phone. He dials her number. It goes straight to voicemail. He waits for the beep.

"Why did you leave? I want to know the truth. You have to know that I didn't lie to you. There was no one else. I love you, why can't you see that? Maybe I'm just a fool. Why can't you just love me back?" he hangs up the phone.

She can't seem to focus after hearing his message. A few days later she finds herself in a psychologist's office. Her name is called, and she goes into the office. She sits numbly as he asks her questions.

"Tell me what the problem is," he begs.

She plays him the message.

"And how does that make you feel?" he questions.

"What's wrong with me?" she asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"What is wrong with me? Why can't I ever be happy? Maybe I don't deserve it."

"Do you ever think that maybe you're the source of your unhappiness."

"What?"

"You create your own unhappiness. You're the one who walked away aren't you?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Why?"

"I couldn't stay there."

"Why not?"

"I got offered a better job."

"Are you going to go back?"

"I don't know."

"How do you feel about this man?"

"He's irritating, immature, infuriating, and annoyingly persistent."

"Those are all of his qualities?"

"No. He's caring, and kind, and all of that warm fuzzy stuff, it's kind of sickening how nice he's been the past couple of years, since Molly."

"Who is Molly?"

"She was his wife, she died."

"Are you worried that he still loves her?"

"No."

"Do you want to be with him? Do you love him?"

"I don't want to want to be with him. I don't want to love him."

"But you do?"

"I've spent a really long time hating him."

"Why?"

"He never stands up to anyone, not even for himself. He's a coward. I could never be with a coward."

"You can't change that, you can't change him. The only person you can change, is you."

"How is that going to help?"

"Maybe you could be with a coward one day."

"That's never going to happen."

"Running away, coming here, it didn't solve your problems. Putting distance between the two of you doesn't resolve a thing. You need to confront your feelings."

"You don't understand. I hate this man, but I have feelings for him."

"Then love him, or let him go."

He stands in front of the reception area in a daze.

"Can I help you?" she asks him.

He takes a step forward, "Yes, I'm looking for Wilhelmina Slater."

"I'm sorry she's not in right now," the receptionist informs him.

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"She's going to be out of the office for the next two days."

"Oh, I see."

"I can leave her a message if you'd like."

"That's not necessary."

"What's your name?"

"Daniel."

"I'll tell her that you stopped by," she answers.

"No. Don't," he responds.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't think that she wants to see me anyway," he admits.

"Ok," the receptionist agrees.

He leaves the reception area, and gets onto the elevator. He returns to the airport and waits on the next flight back across the pond. Two hours later he boards his flight.

The receptionist's head lifts when she hears Wilhelmina's heels coming toward her. She stares at her in confusion.

"I thought that you were going to be out of the office for the next two days."

"I'm just coming to get my laptop, I forgot to grab it last night," she admits.

"Oh."

"Any messages for me?"

"No," she shakes her head, and bites her lip.

"Something you want to tell me?"

"Someone was looking for you, he told me not to tell you."

"What did he look like?"

"He was pasty and...I think he said his name was David, no, not David. It started with a D. It was Daniel."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Claire storms into his office. She flips the light on.

"What are you doing sitting in the dark? You can't hide from the entire world Daniel."

"Mom, don't."

"Where the Hell have you been? You disappear for over a day, and no one can get a hold of you. It would be nice if you'd let someone know before you just disappear."

"I had something to take care of."

"Did you get it taken care of?"

"No."

"So will you be disappearing again?"

"No."

"Where did you go?"

"London."

"Did you see her?"

"No."

"You went all the way over there, and you didn't even see her?"

"She wasn't in. She was out of the office for the weekend."

"So you just left?"

"What else was I going to do?"

"Call her. Tell her that you were there."

"So it sounds like I'm desperately stalking her? I don't think so."

"Daniel grow up, stop being such an idiot."

"Thanks for you support, Mom."


	10. Bent

He continues to drown his sorrows, and the days drag on. He spends his nights alone, and his days thinking of her. He's sitting at his desk, after everyone has left. Betty walks in. He looks up at her.

"I thought that you went home over an hour ago."

"No. Marc and I were working on something."

"Oh. Do you need something?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I need you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. We need you here, and you're never here."

"I spend almost all of my time here."

"Physically, but your head is somewhere else."

"You wouldn't understand."

"I understand, but at what point do you decide?"

"Decide what?"

"To go after her, or to move on. You can't spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself."

"I don't want to move on."

"And how is doing nothing about it working for you?"

"It's not."

"So then do something, or move on."

"Why are you so upset?"

"Because it's time for you to grow up."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're acting like a petulant child."

"You're right."

"But..."

"But nothing, your absolutely right."

"So does that mean that you're going to decide?"

"I think that I should go out."

"Good for you," she smiles, and turns to leave.

She's waiting on the elevator when a tall, dark, handsome, man comes up beside her.

"Heading out?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Would you like to go out for a drink?" he asks her.

"I've got a lot of work left to do," she answers.

"It will be there tomorrow."

"I don't like to mix business with pleasure."

"That surprises me about you."

"I'm full of surprises."

"Wilhelmina please go out with me. We can go to dinner, wherever you'd like."

"I already ate," she lies.

"Then we can just go somewhere and talk."

"Mitch, I'm flattered, but I..."

"But what?"

"I just don't feel like going out."

"We could stay in if you'd like."

"No. I'd just like to go home."

"Why are you so uptight?"

"I'm not."

"Really?" he questions as the elevator doors open, and they step inside.

"I've just made some very bad relationship decisions."

"It doesn't have to be a relationship. We can just have some fun."

"No."

"Why not? Have I done something to offend you?"

"No."

"So what then?"

"You're just not my type."

"I'm not you're type? I'm every woman's type."

"Not mine."

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes.

When she gets off the elevator she leaves the building and gets into a car. She heads back to her apartment for a long, sleepless, night.

Her head hits the pillow, and her eyes close, but sleep, it never comes. She prays for it, but it eludes her. She tosses, and turns. Finally after hours of waiting, she wears herself down. She falls asleep. She wakes less than an hour later in a cold sweat. She flips on the light, and grabs her computer. She searches the internet aimlessly. Then she finds it, a clip of Suzuki St. Pierre. She hits play, and instantly regrets it.

"It looks as if Daniel Meade is back to his old ways. He has been spotted with at least seven girls in half as many days."

She turns the computer off, and sinks into her bed. She turns the lights off, and puts a pillow over her head. Tears begin to fall and she nearly drowns herself.

He looks at the woman in the bed next to him. A young, blonde, model, the type of woman he was comfortable with. He tosses the covers back, and slips out of her bed. He quickly dresses himself, and tiptoes toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she asks him.

"I have an early meeting," he lies as he slips out the door. He grabs his shoes, and heads back to his apartment. When he arrives the emptiness greets him with open arms. He locks the door behind him, closing out the world. He collapses into his bed. He sleeps fitfully. When he wakes the clock tells him he has ten minutes before he has to be up. He stares at the empty space next to him. He turns the alarm off, and wonders into the bathroom. He takes a shower, and brushes his teeth. He goes into his closet, and begins to get dressed. He rifles through drawers, looking for a pair of cuff links. He pulls open a drawer and finds a bra inside. He stops cold, and his heart skips a beat. He stands frozen for several moments. Finally he wills himself to close the drawer. He grabs a pair of cuff links, and leaves the closet.

She sits at her desk, typing away. She finds herself thinking about him, even as she tries to work. She doesn't even hear her co-worker slip into her office. She stops typing, and looks up.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he answers.

"Do you need something?"

"I'm taking you to lunch," he answers.

"I can't I have a lot to do."

"Wil, you always have a lot to do. You need to take a break every now, and again."

"I really can't," she argues.

"I insist. I'm not leaving your office until you decide to come with me."

"Jason, I've..."

"Stop making excuses. Come on," he demands.

"I'm your boss," she reminds him.

"So fire me," he dares her.

"I'm not going to fire you."

"I know, because if you did you wouldn't have anyone to do your bitch work for you."

"I'm sure I could find someone to fill your shoes."

"No one can fill my shoes."

"So are you buying?" she questions.

"What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't?"

"Ok," she agrees.

_A/N: The shift between Daniel, and Wilhelmina's perspective aren't necessarily happening in the same time frame. _


	11. You Make Me Sick

She wakes up in the middle of the night, only to realize that she's not alone. She opens her eyes to look at the man in her bed. She sits up, and runs her fingers through her hair. She studies the clock on her bedside stand. She crawls out of bed, and slips into the bathroom. She quickly bathes, and gets dressed. She quietly slips her shoes on, and attempts to leave without waking him.

"Where are you going so early?"

"Go back to sleep," she answers.

"Wilhelmina where are you going? It's five o'clock in the morning."

"I've got work to do."

"It's Saturday," he reminds her.

"My work is never done."

"I don't believe you."

"What's not to believe?"

"You're running."

"Running from what?"

"From this, from me."

"Don't be absurd."

"I don't think I am."

"Last night was amazing," she admits.

"I should go. This was obviously a mistake," he begins to gather his clothing.

"Jason..."

"I'll see you at work."

She doesn't argue.

He stops in the doorway, and turns around. He gives her a kiss on the forehead. She tenses up.

"Call me when you get over whoever you're hung up on," he tells her.

He stares at the bottom of the bottle. He sits it on the table as the phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" a familiar voice asks him.

"Betty what time is it?"

"Daniel it's ten o'clock. Where are you? The meeting started half an hour ago."

"Can you take care of it?"

"I already am," she admits.

"I'll be there soon," he answers.

"Ok," she agrees, hanging up.

He finishes the bottle, and brushes his teeth. He grabs a handful of mints, and heads out the door. When he steps into his office he finds Betty, Claire, Amanda, and Marc waiting on him.

"What is this? Why are you all in here?"

"You've been drinking," Claire accuses.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Daniel, don't lie to us," Betty begs.

"What is this supposed to be? An intervention? Guys I'm fine."

"Really? I don't think that you are. Betty and I have been making every decision here for the past few months."

"I'll do better."

"No, you'll get better, first," Claire insists.

"I'm fine. I don't have a drinking problem."

"It's genetic you know," Claire reminds him.

"I'm fine."

Amanda steps forward, "Daniel the last few months I've watched you nearly ruin this company. I know that you're going through some personal issues, but it doesn't make it ok to run the company into the ground. It's time to grow up."

"What is it that you guys want from me?"

"We want you to get better," Betty answers.

"How?"

"Rehab," Marc replies.

"Fine, if that's what everyone wants, that's what I'll do."

"Good then we're all in agreement. I've spoken to a treatment facility, and they're expecting you," Claire announces.

"Who is going to run the company while I'm gone?"

"The same people who have been running it for the last three months," Marc answers.

She sits in a leather chair, silently. He waits for her to speak, but she just stares at him.

"There must be something on your mind for you to be here," he prompts.

"I thought that this is what I wanted."

"Is it?"

"I've only been here a month."

"Are you homesick?"

"I just don't want this job. Mode is my home."

"What is this really about?"

"I hate this, I hate feeling powerless."

"Why do you feel powerless?"

"I'm not in control."

"Why does that bother you?"

"I have to be in control."

"You can't control what your heart wants."

She shoots him a look, but he ignores her.

"Have you tried going out? Dating?"

"I tried."

"But?"

"I just want to move on."

"So why don't you?"

"I tried. I thought that it would be easy."

"It wasn't?"

"I almost called him by the wrong name."

"While you were on a date?"

"While we were having sex."

"I see. Does that bother you?"

"The sex was great, but I was thinking about someone else the whole time."

"Why don't you ever say his name?"

"I hate him," she answers.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about someone that you hate," he points out.

"You're never going to understand."

"You have a love-hate relationship with him, that's why you're so conflicted."

"No. I hate him, that's why..."

"Why what?"

"I don't have feelings for him."

"Who are you trying to convince here? Me, or you?"

"I already know that I hate him. Thinking about him makes me nauseous."

"It's ok to have feelings."

"Not for him."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"No."

"So then why are you here? If you don't have feelings for Daniel? If you aren't hung up on him, then why are you here? Why can't you move on? Why can't you have sex with someone else without thinking about him?"

"I'm not going to go over this again. The only feeling I have toward Daniel is hatred."

"You know hatred is a feeling of passion."

She gets out of her chair, and storms out of his office.


	12. I Want You Back

She's sitting at her desk when her phone rings.

"Wilhelmina Slater," she answers.

"Miss Slater there is a Claire Meade on the line for you."

"Tell her I'm out to lunch."

"She said that it's urgent, that she'll keep calling you until you talk to her."

"Fine, put her through," Wilhelmina groans.

The receptionist puts the call through.

"Hello Claire."

"Wilhelmina I know that I'm the last person you want to hear from but..."

Wilhelmina cuts her off, "Not the last person."

"I'll just cut to the chase."

"Please."

"I need you to come back."

Wilhelmina nearly chokes to death on her own saliva, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right."

"I need you to come back to Mode. I'm not going to grovel. Do it, or don't..."

"Why are you asking me to come back?"

"I need an editor in chief."

"Isn't Daniel the editor in chief?"

"He was."

"What do you mean _was_?"

"He's in rehab."

"Rehab? For what?"

"Since you've left Daniel's best friend is a bottle of booze."

"He can't handle the pressure?"

"No, he's just an idiot."

"He's your son," Wilhelmina reminds her.

"He's still an idiot. For whatever reason he can't seem to get over you."

"Claire as much as I'd like to come back to Mode to be Editor in Chief I have a contract here, and it's not up for a few months."

"I'll pay for you to get out of your contract."

"You're really in a bind aren't you?"

"I wouldn't be calling you if I weren't."

"I can't leave right now. We're in the middle of an issue."

"I need you."

"Claire I can't leave."

"Stop being so hard-headed. Do you really want to watch all of your hard work go down the drain because of Daniel?"

"It wouldn't be the first time. Claire even if I wanted to leave I couldn't."

"Are you ever coming back?"

"I'll be back when my contract is up here."

"Fine. I guess we'll just have to take Mode off-line until you get back."

"You can't do that. Taking it off-line will kill it."

"I don't have much of a choice."

"Why can't you be editor in chief?"

"I could, but I'm still going to need a creative director."

"Make Betty, or Marc, do it."

"You're serious?"

"No, not Marc. It would go to his head. Make Betty do it."

"Do you really think that she has what it takes? She's soft."

"It's time for her to toughen up."

"Wilhelmina I don't think..."

"Claire she's your only option."

"You're right."

"Goodbye Claire," she hangs up.

Claire hangs up with Wilhelmina and goes to find Betty. She finds her putting together an article for the next issue.

"Betty can I have a minute?"

"Claire I don't have a lot of time."

"I know. You're doing a great job."

Betty looks up from her computer screen. "Why do I get the feeling that you're buttering me up for something?"

"I'm not. I'm just making an observation."

"Ok."

"Betty I need you."

"I know."

"I want to promote you."

"To what? I pretty much already do everything."

"To creative director."

"To Wilhelmina's old job?"

"No. It's not her old job. It's your job."

"I don't think that I want to be creative director. You should ask Marc."

"Betty if I wanted Marc to do it I would have already asked him."

"Who is going to be Editor in chief?"

"I guess that I am."

"You should ask Wilhelmina. I'd imagine that she's dying to get back here."

"She told me no. Betty I really need you to do this. I don't have anyone else."

"Will this promotion come with a raise?"

"Of course."

"And when Daniel gets back am I going to be demoted?"

"No. I'll make sure that you keep your position."

"Ok," she agrees.

"Do me a favor?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Marc yet."

"Ok."

"You can have Daniel's office."

"Do I get an assistant?"

"You can have whoever you want."

"Cool."

She looks out the window of her office. It's grey, and cloudy, and the rain falls in big fat drops. She tries to push aside the gloomy feeling. She crosses her arms, and stands perfectly still as she watches the rain fall.

"I'm so sick of rain," she whispers to herself.

"It's definitely not New York is it?"

She spins around and finds her assistant behind her. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sorry. Did I scare you?"

"No Cara. Just don't do that anymore."

"Sorry Miss Slater."

Wilhelmina turns back around, and stares out the window. "Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"New York? Mode?"

"Some days," she admits.

"Days like this?"

Wilhelmina purses her lips, and nods silently.


	13. Homecoming

October 11th:

Marc waltzes into Claire's office, and sighs deeply.

"Yes Marc?"

"I thought that Willie was coming back."

"She is."

"I thought that she was going to be back today."

"She is."

"When? It's a quarter after. Wasn't she supposed to be here by now?"

"I don't know. Why don't you give her a call?"

"I did. She changed her number."

"Go do something productive, she'll be here soon."

"Fine," he pouts. He walks away with his arms crossed. He leaves Claire's office, and walks down the hall. He walks past reception, toward a familiar place. Stares at the empty desk outside of Wilhelmina's former office. He walks past the empty desk, and goes to the door. He twists the knob but it won't open. A hand behind him holds out a key. He takes it without a second thought.

"Thanks," he sticks the key in the door knob.

"Marc what are you doing exactly?" she questions.

He freezes and takes a deep breath. He spins around, and his face lights up.

"Willie!"

"Why were you trying to get in there?"

"You'll see," he answers opening the door. He flips on the light, and she steps in behind him.

She looks around the room. Nothing has moved.

"Who was in this office?"

"No one. Daniel refused to give anyone your office."

"So it's been empty all this time?"

"Yup."

"What an idiot. Why would he waste this space?"

"Like you said he's an idiot," Marc admits.

She moves across the room. She takes a seat at her desk. Marc sits down across from her.

"So how have you been? How was Vogue?"

"Fine," she answers flatly.

"I bet you miss it already."

"Not really, it was too rainy."

"Are you ok?"

"Fine," she replies flatly.

"Are you sure? You're being awfully quiet."

"I'm just tired."

"Ok, if you say so."

"Don't you have some work to do?"

"We're having a meeting at eight thirty."

She looks at the watch, "It's eight twenty seven," she informs him.

"Then we should probably get going."

"We?"

"Yes," he nods as he leaves the room.

She follows him into the conference room. Everyone is already seated. Claire stands up as Wilhelmina comes into the room.

"I'd like to start by welcoming Wilhelmina back."

Everyone claps, and sighs in relief.

"I'd like everyone to know that I will be stepping down as Editor in Chief. Wilhelmina will be taking over for me."

There is another round of applause.

Wilhelmina takes center stage, "First of all I'd like to say that I'm glad to be home. I've got a lot of catching up to do, so we should get started."

The meeting lasts two hours. When Wilhelmina adjourns it she asks Betty to come into her office. Wilhelmina takes a seat at her desk, and Betty walks in behind her.

"Close the door," she instructs.

Betty closes the door, and takes a seat across from Wilhelmina. "Do you need something?"

"How is everything going?"

"Fine."

"The truth, Betty."

"Things have been very chaotic, but the past couple of issues have been really great."

"Good reception?"

"Great reception."

"I read them, they were decent, but I think we can do better."

"I'm sure that we can."

"But?"

"I need some sleep. It's hard to come up with new ideas on no sleep."

"I've heard they refer to you as the bitch, now."

"They all hate me."

"But they do what you tell them?"

"Ninety-eight percent of the time."

"You're in a position of power now, and you need to demand respect, and fire the people who don't give it to you."

"I..."

"Betty there are half a dozen people willing to kiss your ass, for every one of them that won't lift a finger."

"I know."

"So let them know that you're not messing around."

"You want me to fire them?"

"Give them a week. Tell them that they have a week to get their act together, or their time here is over."

"Ok."

"How many people have you fired so far?"

"Twelve," Betty answers.

"It's about time."

"For what?"

"That you stand up to everyone."

"I don't have a choice, it's my job."

"You're creative director now, so where is your office?"

"I'm in Daniel's office."

"I see."

"I don't like it, but there wasn't any other space available."

"If it makes you uncomfortable you can have this one."

"No," she disagrees.

"That's all," Wilhelmina announces.

Betty gets up, and heads for the door. She's a few steps from the doorway when Wilhelmina adds, "Your last issue was a little soft for my tastes, but it wasn't bad."

Betty stops briefly, smiles, and continues on her way.


	14. Rehab

Claire stops at the reception desk at Long Meadow Rehabilitation Center.

"I'm here to see my son, Daniel."

"He's expecting you, Mrs. Meade. You can go back now."

"Thank you," Claire's lips curl into a smile.

She finds Daniel in his room playing a video game. He pauses it when she comes into the room. She takes a seat in an armchair.

"How are you doing?"

"Good."

"Really?"

His eyes meet hers, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I got a call yesterday."

"Oh..."

"You threw a tray at one of the other residents?"

"It was a misunderstanding."

"You hit him so hard that you gave him a concussion, and now you have to eat all of you meals here in your room."

"He agreed to it."

"He agreed to it?"

"I want to eat in here. I don't like being out there with everyone else."

"Fine. How is therapy going?"

"It's going great."

"If it's going great, then why are you still in here?"

"I've got a lot of issues to work on."

"Really?"

"Yes," he replies.

"Doctor Peterson disagrees."

"You talked to my doctor?"

"Yes. He told me that you've come a far way, but some things you simply refuse to talk about."

"That's not true."

"So why would he tell me that?"

"He asks me completely irrelevant questions."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," he shrugs.

"You refuse to talk about the reason you're here."

"No I don't. We talk about my issues with alcohol all the time."

"That's not why you're here, and you know it."

"Really? I thought that you made me come here because of my alcohol problem."

"I made you come here because I want you to get better."

"I'm not sick."

"Really? So why is it that you refuse to talk about her."

"About who?"

"Wilhelmina."

He looks out the window, and doesn't reply.

"You flinch when anyone mentions her."

"Because I hate her."

"That's why you refuse to talk about your feelings toward her in therapy?"

"It's completely irrelevant to the alcohol thing."

"No, it's the reason for the alcohol."

"NO, it's not. How do you know so much about me? You're not me, please stop telling me what I'm feeling."

"I'm your mother. I know you better than you know yourself."

"Whatever."

"You're going to have to talk about it at some point."

"About what? There's nothing to talk about. I hate Wilhelmina, end of story."

"If it were that simple you'd be out by now."

"Maybe I don't want to get out."

"Yes you do," she argues.

"Mom... please just leave me alone."

"You have to deal with this at some point."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to get out of here. When you come back to Mode you're going to have to deal with Wilhelmina."

"I'm not coming back to Mode."

"What do you mean you're not coming back to Mode?"

"I'm not coming back."

"Since when?"

"Since I decided that I want to go out west."

"What for?"

"For me."

"Whatever Daniel. I'm tired of trying to talk to you, because it's less effective than talking to a rock."

Claire leaves, and Daniel goes to therapy. He sits in the leather chair, silently. He stares at the floor.

"Something you want to talk about?" Dr. Peterson asks.

"Yeah," he nods.

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Why I'm here," he answers as he stares at the floor.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I couldn't take it anymore."

"Take what?"

"Knowing that she hates me."

"Who?"

"Her," he answers.

"Who is she?"

"Wilhelmina."

"Why does that bother you so much?"

"She left."

"Why?"

"She couldn't stand to be around me anymore."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because it's true. I was stupid."

"Stupid? Why do you say that?"

"I made the mistake of falling for her, and she crushed me."

"You love her?"

He simply nods.

"Why is that so hard for you to admit?" Dr. Peterson probes.

"Because I've spent a good majority of my life hating her."

"Why?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. The things I love about her, are the things that infuriate me the most about her."

"So you feel conflicted?"

"To say the least."


	15. Chance Of A Lifetime

Wilhelmina is sitting her office, at her desk when Claire waltzes in, and takes a seat.

"Can I help you?"

"I'd like to discuss something with you."

"What?" she snarls.

"I'm considering getting rid of Meade."

"What do you mean?"

"I think that it's time for me to move on. Meade started as a family company, but now..."

"Your family left you?"

"Exactly."

"So you're going to sell it?"

"No, I'd never sell it."

"Why not? You'd make a fortune."

"It would be blood money."

"So?"

"I'd rather give it away."

"Give it away? Does Alexis know about this?"

"Yes, she's given her approval."

"So who are you going to give it to? Charity?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I am feeling charitable, but not that charitable."

"Just to clarify you're giving the whole company away?"

"I'm planning on relinquishing mine, and Alexis' shares to the company."

"What percentage is that?"

"It would be the majority of the company."

"So who are you going to relinquish it to? Daniel?" she asks bitterly.

"No, Daniel can do whatever he'd like with his portion, but I won't let him have the rest of the company, he'd just run it into the ground."

"I'm glad you're being sensible about this."

"I'd like to give the shares to you."

Wilhelmina nearly chokes to death. She swallows hard, and questions, "I don't think that I heard you right."

"I'm giving you control of the company. I know that it's what you've always wanted. I'd like to give it to you."

"Why? What are you planning?"

"I'm not planning anything? This isn't a ploy. I want to give you control of the company."

"Why?"

"You deserve it, you want it, you should have it."

"You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I guess I'm just having a hard time understanding."

"I want out."

"Ok, but you don't have to give me control of the company."

"You deserve it, you've earned it."

"Have you lost your mind? You hate me."

"I hate the things that you've done, but I realize that even though some of your choices have been selfish, you always looks out for what's best for Mode, I know you'd do the same if you were in charge of Meade."

"I'm flattered, I think."

"But?"

"I don't want the company."

"Since when?"

"I like being at the top, but I don't like being alone. I'm happy where I am."

"You don't want the company?"

"No."

"Why not? What's changed?"

"It's complicated. If you had offered me the company a year ago, I would have jumped on the opportunity."

"What's changed?"

"I'm just tired."

"It's lonely at the top, isn't it?"

"I don't want the company."

"I don't believe that for a minute."

"I'll admit, it's what I've wanted from the start..."

"But?"

"But I don't want it now."

"You really don't want it?"

"I don't. There are other things that I want, and taking over the company stands in the way of them."

"What other things? This company is your life."

"Not anymore."

"Did you meet someone?"

"No. It's complicated."

"Everything about you is complicated."

"This is different."

"Different how?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

Wilhelmina's cell phone rings. She quickly checks the screen and holds her index finger up to Claire. She answers the phone. Claire listens as Wilhelmina talks to the party on the other end.

"You're sure? Ok, I'll be right there. Thank you," she hangs up. She stands up, and grabs her bag.

"Sorry Claire, I've got to go."

"Fashion emergency?" she questions.

"Something like that," she lies.

"Will you be back today?" Claire asks.

"I don't know, probably not."

Wilhelmina leaves, and Claire returns to her office. About an hour later Betty comes into her office.

"Have you seen Wilhelmina?"

"She left."

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"No. Do you need something?"

"Just her approval."

"For..."

"For the cover shoot."

"Since she's not here the choice is yours."

"Ok," she turns to leave.

"Before you go can I ask you something?"

She spins around, "Sure, what?"

"Have you noticed..."

"Wilhelmina came back an entirely different person. Still demanding, and irritating at times, yet somehow tolerable, and almost understanding? Yeah, I noticed."

"I offered her a promotion."

"To what?"

"I offered to give her mine, and Alexis' shares of Meade."

"So she'd have control of Meade?"

"Yes."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"She turned me down," Claire admits.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Why would she turn you down?"

"I don't know, I was hoping that you could come up with a reason."

"Maybe she really does Daniel, and she doesn't want to hurt him. Her having control of the company would probably crush him."

"It doesn't matter, he's not here to stop me."

"How is he doing?"

"He's the same."

"When is he coming back?"

"He says that he's not."


	16. AN

_A/N: I would like your opinions on where to go next. I want to thank all my loyal readers. I really appreciate every single one of you. The reviews are great please keep them coming. I have already written several more chapters, but I am thinking about going in a different direction. It's really up to all of you guys. What do you want? Please send some feedback my way. _

❤ _Purplepagoda_


	17. It's Not My Time

She sits quietly. She tries her hardest not to cry. Her thoughts make her delirious. She stares off into space. When her eyes focus she wishes that she's elsewhere. She takes a deep breath, and begins to speak. She looks at him, she doesn't blink as she tells him, "No one can know about you. At least not yet, maybe not ever."

He doesn't respond. She leaves the room, and she goes home. She tosses and turns, and sleep eludes her. She hugs half a dozen down pillows. The silence kills her, and the emptiness consumes her.

The alarm rings but she's already awake. She crawls out of bed, and starts the day. By the time she gets to work she exhausted.

"Did you hear me?"

Wilhelmina looks up and finds Claire standing in front of her desk. "No. What did you say?"

"The meeting is getting ready to start, are you coming?"

"Yes," she inhales.

Everyone notices the shift in Wilhelmina's behavior. She remains quiet throughout the entire day. Marc pops through the door.

"Should I be scared?"

"Of what?" Wilhelmina answers.

"Is something going on with you? You're being too quiet."

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, "I'm just not getting enough sleep."

"Because of the time change?"

"I doubt it," she admits.

"So what then? Is there a new man in your life?"

"Hardly."

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

"When?"

"In London, before London..."

"Marc don't worry about it."

"How can I not? You left with no notice, and now you're back, and weirder than ever."

"Drop it," she insists.

"Why did you let him hurt you so badly?"

"I didn't," she argues.

"The expression on your face says differently."

"I don't care about Daniel anymore. I'm over him."

"I don't believe you."

"I've moved on."

"With someone new?"

"With my life. I've got other things to worry about."

"Is there something wrong with you?"

"No."

"Fine," he crosses his arms, and leaves the room.

Later that day he finds himself eavesdropping on her phone conversation. He stands outside her door, and listens quietly.

"I'm fully aware of that. Yes I know. Dr. Clark I understand what you're saying, but I don't know what you want me to do. I don't know anything about any of this. It's all new to me. And what's the treatment? And the side effects? Is that the only option? Then you should start the treatment. Yes I'll be in after work. Ok. Thank you. Goodbye," she hangs up the phone.

Marc leaves the doorway, and runs to Betty. She looks up at him as he takes a puff of his inhaler.

"Why are you out of breath?"

"I've got to talk to someone."

"And you picked me?"

"You were the first person I saw."

"Joy," she rolls her eyes.

"No this is good."

"What?"

"It's not good, it's bad, terrible in fact..."

"What."

"I think that there is something wrong with Willie."

"Obviously."

"No. I think that she's sick."

"Yes Marc, we all know that she's sick, twisted, and cruel. That isn't noteworthy."

"Listen."

"I am listening."

"I think that she's sick."

"I heard that."

"Ill. I heard her talking to a doctor on the phone."

"That doesn't mean anything. She's got at least half a dozen doctors on speed dial."

"She was talking to him about treatment options."

"For what?"

"I don't know," he shrugs.

"Marc you're being ridiculous."

"I heard her tell him to start the treatment, and that she'd be in after work."

"You're crazy. I'm sure that she's fine."

"Maybe she's not. Maybe she's got a terminal illness. That would explain her behavior lately."

"Whatever."

"Do something," he begs.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Anything, she's had a soft spot for you lately."

"Fine," she sighs.

Betty stops by Claire's office on her way out of the office for the day.

"Can I help you Betty?"

"Marc insists that Wilhelmina is terminally ill."

"Why would he think that?"

"He over heard her on the phone."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know. Talk to her. I don't really care, but Marc will never leave me alone, unless I do something."

"Ok, I'll take care of it," she agrees.

Claire leaves her office. She finds Wilhelmina packing up her things, getting ready to leave for the day.

"What do you need Claire?" she groans.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Can I stop you?"

"You've been acting strange lately."

"I'm just trying to get readjusted."

"I think that it's more than that."

"Maybe," she shrugs, "I've really got to go. I have somewhere I need to be."

"Are you terminally ill?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Would you actually tell me if you were?"

"Probably not, but I'm fine. Where did that come from, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm concerned about you."

"Why?"

"I can tell that something isn't right."

"What's your point?"

"You're hiding something. I know it, you know it, most of the Mode employees know it."

"So?"

"Are you going to tell me what?"

"I'll admit, I am hiding something, but it's not what you think."

"I don't know what to think with your behavior lately."

"Don't worry about it."

"I have to. The magazine is in your hands."

"I'm not going to tell you. If you needed to know, then you would," Wilhelmina reassures her.


	18. Dying To Live Again

Claire rides the elevator to the sixth floor of the hospital. The doors open, and she steps off. She looks around. She moves over to the reception desk, with flowers in her arm.

"Can I help you?" a perky blonde asks her.

"This is the sixth floor isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am. Where are you going?"

"Sorry. I'm supposed to be on the fifth floor. Can you tell me where the stairs are?"

"Right over there," the woman points.

Claire steps away and starts for the stairwell. The doors of the elevator open, and she hears the unmistakable sound of a familiar pair of stiletto heels. Her head turns before she can stop it. She watches as Wilhelmina walks past the reception area, and down the hall. Once Wilhelmina disappears from sight, and Claire can no longer hear her clicking heels she returns to the reception desk. She turns to the blonde sitting before her.

"What's on this floor?" she asks out of curiosity.

"Different things. Mostly oncology, and intensive care."

Claire hands the receptionist the flowers, "Can you make sure that these get to Ted Wilson in room 518?"

"Of course," the receptionist nods.

"Thank you," Claire smiles, and heads down the same hall Wilhelmina had disappeared down moments earlier. As she walks her heart skips a beep. She wonders if Wilhelmina had been lying about being sick. She moves slowly down the hall. She passes rooms, and hears beeping monitors, and tiny voices. She reaches the end of the hall, preparing to turn around. She turns to her right. She looks through heavy glass windows. On the other side of the windows she sees dozens of isolets, and at least twice as many monitors.

_What are you doing? She's not down here. This is the pediatric intensive care unit. Maybe it wasn't her. _She turns to go, but something stops her. She takes one more look at the solemn room before her. Doctors, nurses, and parents hover around some of the isolets. In the lefthand corner of the room sits a rocking chair. The back of the chair faces the window. She watches as it rocks back and forth. She finds herself frozen, for a reason she can't define. She notices the metallic silver hair barrette in the woman's brown hair.

The glass door opens, and a nurse steps out. "Can I help you?" the woman in green scrubs asks.

"I was looking for someone but..."

"Who are you looking for?"

"Wilhelmina Slater."

The nurse nods in acknowledgment. She turns and points to the back of the room, "She's back there. You can go in if you'd like," the nurse pauses, and hands her some scrubs, "Just put these on, and make sure you wash your hands."

"Ok," Claire nods as the nurse leaves. She slips the smock, and booties on. She quickly washes her hands. She stands over the sink for several moments. Finally she begins moving. She very slowly makes her way to the back of the room. Finally she reaches her destination. She stops less than a foot from the back of the rocking chair. She watches silently.

Wilhelmina rocks back and forth, back and forth, with a tiny baby against her heart. She silently gives him a tender kiss on his head.

Claire watches in utter confusion, without a single word. She surveys her surroundings. On the end of the isolet a blue name card reads _Chance_. She takes a step closer to the rocking chair, but fights the urge to turn and run, at the very same time.

Without blinking Wilhelmina begins to speak, "How long are you going to stand there?" she questions.

Claire stands frozen, unable to move, or speak.

"Claire," she says softly, yet accusingly, "What are you doing here?"

She takes a deep breath, and tries to find the right words, "I came to visit a friend, but I got off on the wrong floor."

"I saw you at the receptionist's desk. I guessed that your curiosity would get the better of you," she admits.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I don't know what I was doing."

"You're doing your job. I know that you've been wondering where I keep disappearing to."

"I should have just asked you."

"You tried. I would never have told you."

"You could have just lied."

"I wouldn't have been able to, so I just didn't. I just withheld the truth."

"So what are you doing here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I do mind you asking."

"I'm sorry."

"But, I'll tell you, because I know you won't let it go, until I do."

"Are you volunteering, for publicity, or something?"

"Do you see any cameras?"

"Are you volunteering to repay your debt to society, or clear a guilty conscience?"

"No."

"So what are you doing here?" Claire questions.

"Not volunteering. This is the last place I'd ever volunteer," she admits.

"It's so quiet in here."

"It's the sound of death, most of these babies will never make it out of here."

"What about him?"

"If he's lucky. He was born at thirty one weeks and two days gestation, despite all attempts to keep him in longer, including five weeks of strict bed-rest. His impatience, and other contributing factors are to blame for his early arrival into the world."

"Other contributing factors?"

"Pre-eclampsia."

"Is he ok?"

"He will be, hopefully. He just needs some time. He's been off oxygen for a while, but his feeding tube just came out yesterday, and he's having a hard time keeping anything down."

"He's tiny," Claire comments.

"He's now four pounds one ounce, when he was born he weighed three pounds five ounces."

"How do you know all of this? Why are you here? Does he belong to someone you know?"

"I was here when he was born."

Before Claire can ask for further explanation the baby's eye's flutter open. Claire stares into the baby's big blue eyes. Wilhelmina smiles at the little boy, "Nice to see you," she coos. The little boy yawns, and then places his tiny hand over Wilhelmina's heart.

"What's his name?" Claire questions, already knowing the answer.

"Chance," she replies.

"How much longer will he be here?"

"Three to four weeks, maybe less, it all depends on how well he does."

"So how long will he have been in here, total?"

"Eight or nine weeks."

"When was he born?"

"The tenth of September."


	19. So Small

Claire stands there quietly, afraid to ask the question on her mind.

"He's so precious," finally words escape her mouth.

"He's a miracle," Wilhelmina admits.

"How often do you come here?"

"Everyday," she admits.

"Oh," Claire nods.

"At first I didn't want to come here at all, it was too much."

"Because he was so fragile?"

"Because it is my fault."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she lies.

"How is this your fault?"

"I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?"

"I didn't know, until it was too late."

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't find out until after I left."

Claire doesn't say anything. "Why aren't you interrogating me?" Wilhelmina questions.

"Because I don't know if I'm ready to hear the truth," Claire admits.

Wilhelmina very carefully gets out of the chair. "Sit down," she demands.

Claire reluctantly takes a seat in the rocking chair. Wilhelmina cautiously places the lethargic infant against Claire's chest. Claire clings to the little boy.

"I died," Wilhelmina admits.

"What?"

"I flat-lined," she answers.

"When?"

"The day he was born, I flat-lined. It took them nearly two minutes to revive me."

"I don't understand."

"It's my fault he's here. If I had..."

"If you had what?"

"Done things differently, if I had known then maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

_June 2__nd__ :_

_She sits in a chair waiting for the doctor to return with her lab results. She goes through her mailbox, and deletes old text messages. There is a knock on the door, and the doctor steps in with a manilla folder._

"_What's wrong with me?"_

"_You're going to be fine."_

"_It's psychosomatic isn't it?"_

"_No, it's real."_

"_I'm not just imagining it?"_

"_No."_

"_So what's wrong with me? Is it something that can be fixed? Can you give me a pill, or a shot, or something?"_

"_I can't give you a pill, or a shot, but it will stop if you just give it time."_

"_Time? That's your cure? I don't have time to sit around and wait."_

"_It's not something that needs to be cured."_

"_So what's wrong with me?"_

"_You're perfectly fine."_

"_So then why do I feel..."_

_He cuts her off, "Calm down. It's good news."_

"_Good news? How?"_

"_Congratulations, you're pregnant."_

"_You need to do the test again, because that is one thing that I am most definitely not."_

"_I'm certain, you're pregnant."_

"_There's got to be some sort of mistake, I can't be pregnant."_

"_Why can't you be pregnant?"_

"_I'm too old."_

"_I assure you, you most definitely are pregnant."_

"_You're wrong. I have a hostile womb."_

"_Medically, that doesn't amount to much."_

"_I can't be pregnant."_

"_Nothing you say is going to change the fact that you are pregnant."_

End of Flashback

"I tried my best, but it wasn't good enough, and now he's here."

"You tried your best?"

"I spent weeks in a hospital trying to prevent him from arriving too early, but I couldn't. My blood pressure sky-rocketed, and they had to deliver him via emergency c-section."

Claire says nothing, she just looks at the tiny baby she's holding.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this. Do you know how hard it is to burp a baby who is that small?"

Claire shakes her head.

"You have to hold them against the palm of your hand because they're too small to be held over your shoulder. Not that it matters, because he spits everything up, anyway. If he doesn't start keeping some of it down they're going to have to re-insert his feeding tube."

"What was the call about earlier this week?"

"He caught something last week, and it went into his kidney's. They gave him another round of antibiotics, he's fine now."

"You didn't have to come back," Claire reminds her.

"I did if I wanted to keep him here."

"Why didn't you tell me about all of this?"

"I didn't tell anyone. I don't know where to start."

"From the beginning."

"It's not something that just comes up in casual conversation."

"You should have told me."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"You've never been my adversary, and I can't handle your criticism right now. I've never felt so, completely, drained in my entire life. I don't sleep, at all. I lie awake in bed all night, just wondering if he's ok. I go to bed praying that I won't get a phone call in the middle of the night telling me that something's wrong. Work is the only thing that is keeping from losing my mind right now. It's the only time that I can think about anything but him."

"That's it? That's why you didn't want to tell me?"

"I didn't want you to run off and tell Daniel, but at this point I don't really care anymore."

"Why would I tell Daniel? Your personal business, is just that."

"It's not just my personal business, though. Daniel has every right to know."

"He has every right to know? What do you mean? I thought that you left to get away from him..."

"A lot of good that did. There are some things you just can't run away from. I tried to run away, to pretend that nothing ever happened between us, but there's no way for me to deny it now. I have a daily reminder," she stares at the little boy Claire is holding.

Suddenly it clicks, the lightbulb in Claire's head goes off. "He's yours... and Daniel's."

"Your grandson," she adds with undertones of disgust.

Claire re-exams the tiny infant. "My grandson," she repeats very quietly.


	20. Can You Stand The Rain

He glares at her as she sits in his room.

"I don't understand what you're doing here. I thought that I made it very clear to you, I don't want to talk."

"I know. I'm not asking you to say anything."

"So then what do you want from me, mom?"

"I just want you to listen."

"Ok," he nods.

"I'm going to say things that you don't like, but you're not going to get up and leave. You will sit here, and listen until I'm done."

"Ok," he agrees.

"I know that you've got a lot on your mind. I understand how hard things have been for you lately. I know that you want to run away. You think that by putting distance between you, and the problem you can make it go away, but you can't. You've got to deal with whatever it is that is keeping you here."

"Maybe I don't want to," he interrupts her.

"You don't have a choice. You will resolve whatever issues you have, and you will leave here, and return to Mode."

"I may be your child, but I am not a child I don't have to do what you say."

"Daniel it's time for you to grow up, to be a man. You've got to learn to take responsibility for your actions. You can't just run away all of the time."

"I'm going out west, and that's final."

"You can't."

"I can't? You're forbidding me to go? I'm not twelve, I'm a grown man, I'll go if I want."

"Please just let me finish."

"Fine," he sulks.

"Daniel I think there's something you should know."

"What?" he huffs.

She hands him a picture. He studies the picture in confusion, "What's this?"

"It's a baby."

"A baby? What baby? Whose baby?"

"His name is Chance."

"That's nice, how is this relevant?"

"He's your son," she reveals.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a son."

"You do now."

"You've got to be out of your mind. Did someone put you up to this?"

"No, nobody put me up to this."

"Did some skank claim I'm the father of her child? Because I'm not."

"Daniel he's your son."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I had an independent DNA test performed. He's definitely yours."

"With who?"

"Who have you been with in recent history?"

"I don't know. I don't remember all of them. There was a lot of alcohol involved in my life recently."

"Think about it."

"I don't know."

"Wilhelmina," she answers.

"What?"

"You've got a son with Wilhlemina."

"Is this another one of her ploys, to take control of the company?"

"I offered her the company, she doesn't want it."

"You did what?"

"Focus."

"On what?"

"This is not a ploy, it's reality. You have a son, his name is Chance, and he's five weeks old."

"You really believe her? How do you know that she's not lying to you? Wait, there's no way that this can be true, Wilhelmina can't even have anymore kids."

"Daniel you have son with Wilhelmina."

"No," he shakes his head.

"You're going to have to live with this whether you like it or not. You are going to have to learn how to be amicable with Wilhelmina."

"Why?"

"Because you have a son with her, and for the rest of your life you're going to have to deal with her, because she's your child's mother."

"I'll call my lawyer in the morning, I'll surrender my parental rights."

"You will do no such thing. It's not ok for you to surrender your rights. You need to put aside whatever feelings you have toward Wilhelmina, because right now she needs your support."

"What for? I'm sure that she's doing a fine job."

"Daniel, Chance is in the hospital."

"Why? What's wrong with him? Did all of Wilhelmina's boozing..."

"Stop. She's not always the bad guy. Right now you're doing a pretty good job of giving _yourself _that role."

"Why is he in the hospital?"

"Because he was born nine weeks prematurely."

"Is he ok?"

"He's doing better each day, it's Wilhelmina who I'm worried about."

"Why are you worried about her?"

"Because she's trying to work, and go back and fourth to the hospital to see Chance everyday. She doesn't sleep, I'm not sure she ever eats, she's under a lot of stress."

"What is your point?"

"She needs your support. She needs to know that she can count on you."

"I don't owe her anything. She got herself into this mess."

"She didn't get herself into anything. You're as equally responsible as she is. You did get her pregnant."

"I don't believe this. Mom, she's got to playing you. She's using the sympathy card."

"She's playing me? You think that she's making all of this up?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. Wilhelmina will go to any lengths to get what she wants."

"She's not making this up."

"Are you sure? Have you seen the baby?"

"Yes," she nods.

"I just don't understand how this could happen."

"Why does it matter how it happened?"

"You're certain that he's mine?"

"Yes Daniel, he's yours."

"I don't want this."

"It doesn't matter what you want. You will take care of your child, whether you like it or not."

"I think you should go."

"Why?"

"I need some time to deal with this, alone."

"This isn't something that is going to go away."

"I know," he rolls his eyes childishly.


	21. Someday

Wilhelmina sits at her desk chewing on a pen cap when Marc enters the room.

"Are you eating plastic now? Is there a new diet I don't know about?"

She looks up from what she's working on. She lays the pen on the desk, and then asks, "What do you want?"

"Are you doing ok?"

"Marc stop asking if I'm ok. I'm fine."

"You never really told me much about your time..."

"There's not much to tell."

"Did you meet anyone?"

"Nope."

"You didn't have any steamy rendevous?"

"Nope."

"Nothing exciting happened?"

"Not while I was there."

"What about since you've gotten back? What's new with you?"

"You don't want to know."

"Wow, you are really sour this morning."

"That's because I only got an hour and a half of sleep last night."

"Someone at home keeping you up?"

"Marc for the last time, no."

"You're not over Daniel are you?"

"That's not what's keeping me up at night."

"So what is?"

"Nothing," she shakes her head.

"Fine, don't tell me."

Wilhelmina's cell phone rings, "Wilhelmina Slater," she answers.

Marc listens to what she says very carefully, "When? Next week? You're sure? Right. I understand. Uh huh. Yes I'll be in after work. Thanks Kate. Bye," she hangs up.

"Do you have a date after work?"

"I'd hardly call it a date."

"With Kate?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Why are you being so secretive?"

"I'm not."

"Usually you're only secretive when you're planning something."

"I'm not planning anything."

"So why won't you tell me what that phone call was about?"

"Marc don't you have some work to do?"

"That's why I came in here, actually."

"Ok."

"I can't work for her anymore."

"For who?"

"Betty. You've got to fire her. She's so bossy."

"Probably because she's your boss."

"But she isn't qualified."

"She's proven herself."

"What about me? Haven't I proven myself?"

"Yes, which is why I promoted you to senior fashion editor."

"But that still makes her my boss."

"Marc I am not going to fire Betty."

"It's happened."

"What's happened?"

"You've gone soft. You've actually begun to care about people's feelings. You like Betty Suarez."

She slaps Marc across the face, "Don't be ridiculous."

"Glad to see you're back," he smiles.

"I'm not going to fire Betty, because she has done a surprisingly good job."

"Where are you going to be when Daniel comes back? He'll probably de-mote you."

"I don't think Daniel is coming back."

"Since when? Wait, where did you hear that?"

"That's what Claire told me."

"Since when do you talk to Claire?"

"That's not important."

"So he's not coming back?"

"I don't think so."

"But if he does? Where will you be?"

"I will still be Editor in Chief."

"What will Daniel be?"

"I don't know, I don't care."

"Are you sick?"

"Why would you ask that?" she furrows her brow.

"Because you're just not yourself. And I heard your phone call the other day."

"What phone call?"

"To a doctor discussing treatment options."

"It's not what you think."

"It's not?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I am perfectly fine."

"Why do I get the feeling that there is something you're not telling me?"

"Because there is, but if you'll excuse me I have a meeting I've got to get to."

"Ok," he watches her leave.

He watches her get onto the elevator, and then returns to her office. He sits down at her desk, and rifles through her papers. He finds nothing incriminating so he turns to her computer. He looks at the files on the desktop, but nothing jumps out. He notices that her USB drive is connected to the computer. He clicks on the icon, and scrutinizes the folders. Most are entitled work, or are most definitely work related. He clicks on the fold that is simply labeled _Chance_. He clicks on the folder and a slideshow starts. The first slide is white with a blue border, and blue writing. He carefully reads the slide that says, _Chance-9/10/10_. Just as he finishes it flashes to the next slide. He sits in front of her computer completely entranced as a series of baby pictures flashes across her screen. His finger hovers over the escape button when a picture of Wilhelmina pops up on the screen. In the picture she's sitting in a rocking chair, holding the baby. Without a second thought he exits the slide-show. He clicks out of the windows that he's in, and vacates Wilhelmina's seat. He leaves the office feeling utterly confused.


	22. Doesn't Make it True

The following morning she's drinking a cup of tea when he waltzes into her office, and plants his cheeks in the seat across from her.

"Can I help you?" she asks taking a sip of the hot tea.

"I need to ask you something."

She swallows, "Ok."

"Don't hit me."

"I can't make any promises," she answers, taking another sip.

"Who is Chance?"

She spits the tea out, all over the papers on her desk, and on Marc, "What?" Without a moment of thought she throws a tissue at Marc, and begins wiping off the papers on her desk.

"You left your flashdrive in your computer."

"So you thought that it would be ok to look at the things on it?"

"I'm sorry."

"Marc..."

"I saw the pictures. Why do you have baby pictures on your computer? Did someone you know have a baby?"

She doesn't answer immediately. She walks across the room, to close, and lock the door. She walks around the desk, and reaches into her bag. She pulls a picture out and hands it to him.

He studies the baby picture carefully. He flips it over to read the scrawl on the back. In Wilhelmina's hand-writing in the top left hand corner, in blue ink it says: _Chance E. Slater-5½ weeks. _

"Is this Nico's baby?" he questions. "I thought that you weren't talking to Nico."

"I'm not talking to her."

"So..."

"It's not her baby," Wilhelmina answers.

"Renee's baby?"

"Do you think that I would have pictures of my sister's baby?"

"Right. The name on the picture is Slater," he points out.

"I know. I named him," she reveals.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why did you name him? Why didn't his mother name him?"

"She did."

"You just said that you named him."

"I did."

"Which is it? You named him or his mother named him? It can't be both ways."

"Yes it can."

"What are you saying?"

"He's my son."

"He's your what? I think that I misheard you."

"You didn't mishear me."

"Your son? You have... you had a baby? Willie that's not possible. Wait did you adopt him?"

"No I didn't adopt him."

"So you used a surrogate?"

"No Marc, I gave birth to him."

"I thought that wasn't possible."

"Apparently it is."

"You had a baby? You haven't been gone that long."

"I was pregnant before I left."

"Is that why you left?"

"No, I didn't know."

"You didn't know?"

"No, which probably contributed, at least, in part to him being born nine weeks pre-term."

"Is he ok?"

"Doing better every day."

"Wait how old is he?"

"Five and a half weeks, that picture is from last night."

"So who is his father?"

She locks eyes with him, but says nothing.

He gasps, "No." He shakes his head.

"Calm down," she demands.

"This cannot be happening. Seriously?" he starts to freak out.

"Keep your voice down please," she begs.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little bit worked up."

"That's understandable."

"You had a baby, with him? Oh, Willie what were you thinking? Is this part of some elaborate scheme, because if it's not, it's just plain sad."

"It's not part of a scheme. It wasn't part of any plan. It was rather unplanned."

"Does Daniel know that you..."

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"You don't know?"

"I haven't told him."

"So he doesn't know?"

"He might."

"He might? How?"

"Claire knows."

"Claire knows that you have a son with her son?"

"Yes," Wilhelmina nods.

"Are you sure? She's still breathing."

"I'm sure."

"How did she take it?"

"Better than I expected."

"So has she seen him?"

"Who, Daniel?"

"No, the baby."

"Yeah."

"Why are you being so secretive about all of this?"

"I'm having a hard time dealing with all of it. It all seems like a really bad dream."

"What do you mean?"

"It just doesn't feel real. I guess I'm still in denial about the whole thing."

"That you had a baby with Daniel?"

"That I had a baby at all. He was born five and a half weeks ago. He should be with me, but when I go home, he's not there. When I wake up, he's not there. He's spent his entire existence thus far in the neonatal intensive care unit of a hospital, that's not how it's supposed to be. Babies are supposed to be born healthy, and go home with their parents..." she trails off.

"It's ok," he hugs her, and for once she doesn't resist.

"I'm his mother he should be with me. This is all my fault. I made a stupid decision, and now he has to pay for it."

"Don't blame yourself."

"Who else is there to blame? Even if he makes it out of the N.I.C.U. perfectly healthy he could still have a myriad of problems, developmental delays, lung problems, anything..."

"It's not your fault."

She pushes him away. "You don't know that. No one knows that. I didn't do everything that I could. The only person who could possibly take responsibility for this is me."

"You don't control the world, you didn't control this. This is not your fault."

"You can say that all you want, but it won't make it true," she tells him.


	23. Take It Like A Man

"Something on your mind?"

Daniel looks up at Dr. Peterson. "Yeah I've got a lot on my mind."

"Let's talk about it," Dr. Peterson suggests.

"I've got a son."

"You've never mentioned that before."

"Because I just found out."

"How old is he?"

"Five or six weeks."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Confused."

"Why is that?"

"He's Wilhelmina's son."

"He's her son, or he's your son?"

"She's his mother, and I guess I'm his father."

"What's his name?"

"Chance."

"How do you feel about this?"

"I always swore that I'd be more present in my child's life than my father was..."

"But?"

"I don't know if I can. I can't face her. I don't want to have to deal with her."

"It is no longer about the two of you. While it's important that you work through your issues with her, what is most important is that you are there for your child."

"What if he's better of without me?"

"No child is better off without a father."

"I'm not ready to deal with her."

"Does he need you?"

"He's still in the N.I.C.U."

"He needs you."

"He's too young to know whether I'm there or not."

"But his mom will know."

"She hates me, so it doesn't matter."

"I have three kids. The youngest was premature, it was very stressful, to be honest I wouldn't have been able to handle it on my own. Some people can, but very few. She needs you, whether she wants to admit it or not."

"Needs me to do what?"

"Just to be there."

"How?"

"Just listen to her, just support her. Do you know what I consider to define a couple's relationship?"

"No."

"The deciding factor is this; during times of hardship and upheaval couples turn away from each other; they try to handle things on their own, or they turn toward each other; they confide in one another, and act as a pillar of strength for the other person. A lot of times the couples who turn away from each other don't make it."

"We're not a couple though."

"Daniel tell me, in an ideal world how would your relationship with Wilhelmina have gone?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do. I want to hear how it would go."

"She wouldn't have left. She wouldn't have been afraid. She would have believed me. She would have trusted me. She would have loved me."

"And then what?"

"We would live happily ever after."

"And in this fairy tale what is happily ever after?"

"We would be together."

"Married?"

"Maybe, it doesn't really matter. We'd just be together."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

"That's it?"

"Maybe we'd have kid, I don't know."

"You do want kids?"

"I've got one, so does it really matter?"

"But did you want kids?"

"Yeah."

"So you wanted a family?"

"Yes."

"With her?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe that's why you're so angry with her. It's not because she left; it's because she took your dream with her when she did. Daniel you could still have that, but you're going to have to work at it. Things don't just happen. Happiness doesn't just happen, it takes work, and determination."

"I know."

"But you know that all of the problems in the relationship cannot be blamed on the other party. Did she have reasons not to trust you, not to believe you, to be weary about loving you?"

"I did some stupid things in my past."

"People will always judge you by your past action, and until your past actions are different, their opinions of you will remain the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say you always leave the toilet seat up. Other people are right to assume that you are always going to leave the toilet seat up. One day you don't leave the toilet seat up, so then they will assume differently than they did before."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know how I'm going to handle seeing her."

"Don't worry about it."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Go see your son."

"You're telling me to leave?"

"I'm not saying that you're fixed, but you have made a lot of progress. I think that you can leave here, as long as you continue therapy. Shutting down, and holding things inside doesn't make anything better, for anyone. You've got to talk about things, with someone."

"Ok," he nods.

She tosses and turns, she tries to sleep, but it refuses to come. She lays in her bed with her eyes wide open. She sits in the dark, and just listens. She doesn't hear the sounds that she should. She doesn't hear a baby snoring, or crying, or gurgling. Instead she hears nothing. Her heart beats, but she feels hollow.

She rolls over, and flips on the lamp. She pulls her phone to her ear, and dials a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Kate, this is..."

"Wilhelmina he's fine," she cuts her off.

"Are you sure?"

"Hold on," Kate walks over to Chance's isolet, "Can you hear him?"

"No."

"Hold on a second," she puts her phone on speaker, "You're on speaker now."

"I still can't hear him."

Kate watches as the little boy's eyes flutter open, "No, but he can hear you. He's fine, now go to sleep."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"He's there, and I'm here."

"Tell him goodnight, and go to sleep. He'll be with you in your dreams."

She thinks about the idea for a moment and then softly says, "Goodnight Chance."

"He's out."

"He's really ok?"

"He's fine, go to sleep."

Wilhelmina hangs up the phone, and places it on her bedside stand. She turns of the lamp, and rolls onto her side. She closes her eyes, and finally falls asleep.


	24. Right Here

When the nurse, Kate returns from breakfast she finds a man pacing in front of the N.I.C.U.

"Can I help you?" she questions.

"I'm here to see my son."

"Who is your son?"

"His name is Chance."

"Come with me."

She makes sure he washes his hands, and puts the proper clothing on. She sits him in the rocking chair, and carefully removes the baby from the isolet.

"Ready?"

"I guess," he answers hesitantly.

She holds the baby to her chest, "This is how he likes to be held," she instructs.

"Ok," he nods.

She gives him the baby. He studies the baby carefully. Kate starts to walk away.

"Wait..."

"You'll be fine. I'll be close by if you need me."

"Ok," he agrees.

She checks in on the other babies, but keeps a watchful eye on Daniel.

"Hi little guy. How are you doing today champ? It's nice to finally meet you, Chance. I'm your dad by the way, in case you were wondering."

Kate steps into the hallway.

Wilhelmina is sitting in her office when her phone rings.

"Wilhelmina Slater," she answers without checking the caller i.d.

"Wilhelmina, this is Kate."

"Is something wrong?"

"No nothing is wrong."

"Then why are you calling?"

"I just have a question."

"Ok?"

"And don't take this the wrong way."

"What's your question?"

"Who is Chance's father?"

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"No nothing is wrong."

"So why are you asking?"

"Daniel Meade is here, he came to see Chance, he said that Chance is his son."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm looking at him right now."

"Where is he?"

"He's with Chance."

"What do you mean with him?"

"He's holding him."

"I'll be right there."

"They're fine, there is no reason to rush down here. Chance is fine."

"I'll be there in ten," she hangs up the phone.

She makes it to the hospital in ten minutes, even though it's a fifteen minute drive for any normal person. The elevator doesn't reach the bottom floor quick enough, so she opts to take the stairs. She climbs to the sixth floor. When she reaches the top she doesn't stop to catch her breath. She heads to the N.I.C.U. as quickly as she can. When she arrives she finds Kate standing in the doorway.

"Wait."

"What?" she snarls.

"Before you go in there I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"If things continue to progress the way they have been the doctor thinks Chance should be able to go home earlier than expected."

"How early?"

"Within the next week or two."

"Great."

"Wilhelmina don't go in there yet."

"Why not?"

"You're upset."

"What's your point?"

"You're only going to upset Chance."

"No I won't. I am going to be calm, and collected."

"If you're not I'll have to kick you out."

"I'm fully aware of the cost of disturbing even one sleeping baby in your N.I.C.U."

Kate steps out of the doorway. Wilhelmina stops when she reaches the back of the rocking chair.

"What are you doing here?" she questions.

"I'm here to see my son," he answers.

"This isn't how this is going to happen."

"How what is going to happen?"

"I've been here every single day since he was born, and even before that. You don't get to waltz in now, and be the hero."

"I don't want to be the hero. I just want to see my son."

"You should wait."

"You're not going to keep him from me."

Chance starts to cry.

"Now you've upset him."

"I didn't do anything," he argues.

"You raised your voice, he is very sensitive," like a mama bear she snatches her cub away from the perceived threat. She holds him closely, and rubs circles on his back. "Shh! Chance you're alright. Mommy's right here," she coos. The crying stops, and the baby places his hand on her heart, and closes his eyes. "There we go, that's better," she smiles.

"I'm sorry. I should have talked to you before I came here."

"Yes, you should have."

"But I wanted to see him."

"Why? Why now?"

"I just found out about him."

"Maybe if you hadn't gone off the deep end you would know about him."

"Maybe if you had told me before you left I would have known."

"I didn't know before I left."

"A simple phone call would have been nice."

"Daniel things aren't always as simple as you think they are."

"Fine, I'll accept that, but I'm not going anywhere. I want to be here for my son. You're not going to stop me."

"I never said that I wanted to."

"So what was that fit all about?"

"You don't get it do you?"

"Obviously not."

"If anything happened to him I'd have to kill whoever was responsible."

"I'm not going to do anything to him."

"You don't have to do anything to him. You could bring in bacteria, and kill him."

"But I didn't."

"I'm sorry, but you haven't been here the past six weeks. You don't know how hard this has been. You missed all of the hard stuff."

"Like what?"

"Him being hooked up to oxygen, I.V.'s, and a feeding tube, with a heart monitor on twenty four seven. If you think that he's small now you should have seen him the day that he was born."


	25. Talk To Me

_June~_

_She sits on the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think at the situation at hand. Without any warning her hand moves, stopping on her stomach. Just the thought sends shivers down her spine. She tries to deny it, but knows that it's real._

_Days later she lays on an exam table, numbly staring a screen. She tries not to cry as she stares at the image on the screen. She closes her eyes as the sound of a rapid heartbeat fills the room. _

"Can I buy you lunch?"

"I should get back to work."

"You've got to eat," he reminds her.

"Not with you," she points out.

"Wil, I just want to talk.."

"Later," she tells him as she carefully gives her son to him. She kisses the baby on the back of the head, and leaves the room.

She returns to work, but her thoughts never leave the hospital. After work she goes to visit Chance, luckily she finds that Daniel isn't there. After she leaves the hospital she sinks into her bathtub for some quality time with a bar of soap, and some hot water. She's just slipped into her robe when there is a knock at the door. She pulls the belt of the fuzzy robe tight, and slips into her slippers. She goes to the door, and looks through the peephole. She reluctantly opens the door, and lets Daniel in.

She takes a seat on the couch, and he sits down at the other end. She stares at him, with no make-up on, wearing a robe, with her hair in a clip.

"What?" she questions as he smiles at her.

"Nothing," he shakes his head.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know... our son."

"What about him?"

"When he comes home am I still going to get to see him?"

"That's sort of up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't stop you."

"But..."

"If you hurt him..."

"I'm not going to hurt him."

"If you disappoint him, even once, that's it, you're done."

"No offense, but when did you become mother of the year?"

"I've made a lot of mistakes, but I'm trying to make up for them."

"Is this for real? Did you really have him?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I just find it hard to...picture."

"Maybe I can help," she answers as she gets up off the couch. She leaves the living room, and returns with a book. She tosses it on his lap.

"What's this?"

"What's it look like?"

"A book."

"It's a picture album."

He flips it open. He thumbs through the pictures. "This doesn't prove anything, you can have picture's photo shopped."

"Yes because I have so much spare time on my hands," she rolls her eyes.

"Sorry."

She flips to the back of the book and pulls out a disk. She grabs her laptop off the kitchen counter and hands it to Daniel. She clicks play.

"What am I watching?"

"Just watch," she tells him.

He watches the video carefully. The first thing he sees is a nurse reaching for the camera. Then the nurse turns the camera on Wilhelmina. She then pans out to a monitor nearby. The nurse begins narrating, "It's three oh six a.m. on September tenth, two-thousand-and-ten. We are about to take her to the O.R. because her blood pressure is... dangerously high. So we should be meeting the little guy in just a few minutes." Daniel watches quietly. The video ends abruptly when a monitor starts beeping.

"Why did it stop?"

"The room had to be cleared of all unnecessary personnel."

"Why?"

"That's what happens when someone flat-lines."

"He flat-lined?"

"No."

"You flat-lined?"

"The stress of everything was too much on my heart. It could have been worse."

"How?"

"I could have had a stroke, or died."

"How long were you in the hospital?"

"Before or after he was born?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was on bedrest for five weeks. Then I was in the hospital recovering for a week after he was born."

"I didn't know."

"Because you weren't there."

"That's not my fault."

"Not entirely."

"Are you ok?"

"What do you mean am I ok?"

"Physically?"

"I'm fine now that he's out."

"Why did you decide to have him?"

"What?"

"You're pro-choice aren't you?"

"What's your point?"

"I can't imagine that the odds are great for a woman your age. It's got to be risky."

"There are a lot of risk factors."

"So why would you jeopardize your health for him."

"You're really asking me that?"

"I'm glad you did, but I just don't understand. It would have been easier not to have him."

"According to who?"

"I don't know."


	26. Heartstrings

"If you have something to say, just say it. We're well past niceties at this point."

"I guess that I just always assumed that you didn't have William because you didn't want to have to sacrifice your..."

"I was told that I couldn't."

"But you could. Maybe I shouldn't be asking this."

"I am not as heartless as you think I am."

"So you didn't even consider going the other way?"

"You're asking me if I considered abortion?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Sure. I'm at an age where bringing a child into the world is not only risky for myself, but that child. Not only that, but it's a major life change."

"But you decided to have him. I just want to understand why."

"It's not very often that you get second chances, not like this, especially when you don't deserve them. My reasoning, originally, at least, was a little bit selfish. I just wanted to prove that I could do it."

"And after that?"

"I'm not saying that it was an easy decision, that happened overnight, because it most certainly wasn't, but some things are simply meant to be. I didn't find out that I was pregnant until I was well into my second trimester. Making it to that point, is a milestone in itself. I didn't know what I wanted to do. At that point I could have very easily gone either way, because I couldn't imagine having a child at this point in my life. Then when I saw the first ultrasound I couldn't imagine him not being there anymore."

"So you just decided, just like that?"

"I didn't say that. I still wasn't convinced. I was alone in a different city, and nothing was going according to plan. I tried to forget about it, to pretend the whole thing wasn't happening."

"I can't imagine that worked."

"It didn't. Seamstresses are great, they can hide what you can see, but not what you feel."

"Tugging on your heartstrings?" he jokes.

"A baby moving inside of you."

"Right," he nods.

"If you don't want to do this I'm not going to be upset with you."

"I'm not going to walk away."

"I'm not going to do things the way that I did them before. I can't live for my career. I won't. I'm not going to make the same mistakes that I made with Nico. I died, and now I have a new outlook on life. What I do from this point on is not for me, it's for my son."

"Our son."

"Daniel... you're either out, or your in. There is no in between. You will be in his life completely, or not at all."

"Decided by who?"

"Me. If you screw up, you're done."

"Don't you think you're being a little bit harsh?"

"No."

"He's my son too."

"I make the rules."

"Are you qualified to make the rules?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you really telling me that you didn't do anything wrong? Anything that could hurt him."

"I never said that."

"So then you did?"

"Just ask what's on your mind."

"Did you drink while you were pregnant?"

"Not after I found out. Once I knew I did everything in my power to make sure that he arrived safely."

"But he didn't."

"I did what I could. I resigned at Vogue because the job was too stressful, and I had to go on bedrest. I was in my bed on bedrest for three weeks and then I had to I sit in a hospital, by myself for two weeks, trying to convince him to stay in a little bit longer."

"I don't want to fight about this. I'm so sick of fighting with you."

"Are you sure? Let's just get it all out now. I don't want him to have to deal with all of this."

"Why didn't you believe me when I told you there was no one else?"

"Because you looked so damn guilty."

"Not for the reason that you think."

"There wasn't anyone else?"

"No. I felt guilty because I was falling for you even though I promised that it was just sex."

"You see how well that worked out. It was supposed to be just sex, but it wasn't. Now I have to deal with you for the rest of my life."

"That was your choice. You didn't have to have him."

"Did you want me not to have him?"

"I'm just surprised you did."

"What is this really about?"

"I'm surprised because you hate me so much, I don't understand why you'd have a child who has half of my DNA."

"First of all, I don't hate you, and second of all, he's my child too."

"Are you sure that you're really Wilhelmina? You don't seem like the same person, at all."

"Things change, people change."

"Not you."

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I've changed?"

"I know that it was different circumstances, but when William was born you didn't change, not like this."

"That was different. The fact that Chance even exists is a miracle."

"I wish that you hadn't left."

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"I tried, but I was too late."

"So why didn't you follow me?"

"I didn't want to be your stalker. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't love me."

"You're such an idiot."

"You're always so kind," he counters.

"I didn't leave because I hate you. I left because I was afraid that I didn't hate you."

"What does that mean?"

"I was scared because for the first time I was having feelings for you that weren't associated with hate."

"So those feelings would be associated with? Love?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Why did that scare you?"

"Because I'm me, and you're you. I just didn't want to get hurt. I didn't want to become invested in a relationship with you that involved more than sex, and then have you change your mind."

"I wouldn't change my mind."

"How do you really know that?"

"Because I still haven't changed my mind."


	27. Unnatural

"Look I know that I'm never going to be the man that you want me to be..."

She cuts him off before he can go any further, "I just want you to be a man. Stop playing stupid childish games all the time, and grow up."

"You're accusing me of playing childish games? That's definitely the pot calling the kettle black."

"What do you want me to say? What am I supposed to say to make you believe that I've changed? What can I do to make you see that I'm not the villain?"

"I don't know. I'm just so used to you being the villain that it's going to take a while for me to get used to you being someone else. To be honest, I kind of like you being the villain."

"Someone has to do it."

"You and I will never see eye to eye on everything, and I don't expect that. We both have big egos, which is why I will not be returning to Mode."

"It's your magazine."

"No, Wilhelmina it's your magazine, and rightfully so."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but I don't think it will be anything to do with fashion."

"I'm not any good at this," she admits.

"Any good at what?"

"I'm not any good at trying to make things work. I don't like to..."

"Admit that you have any sort of feelings, because it would be a sign of weakness."

"I'm just so..."

"Drained that you don't care anymore. You're sick of trying to be strong all of the time. It's ok to need help sometimes."

"I hate this," she admits, "I don't know how to do this. I'm not used to caring about anyone, but myself. Even when Nico was born I was too selfish to be the parent that she needed. I was too young, and stupid to know what I should have done. Now I know what I'm supposed to do, but I don't know how. I'm afraid that if I let myself get to attached to him... if I let myself love him..." she chokes back tears.

"Nothing is going to happen to him. No one is going to take him from you."

"You don't know that. He's so tiny, anything could go wrong, at anytime."

"It's a good thing that he's like you."

"What do you mean?"

"Stubborn, determined, and not willing to go anywhere without a fight."

"And he's not afraid of needles," she jokes.

"I wasn't going to say that," he smirks.

"I should probably be getting to bed."

He looks at his watch, "It's only ten thirty."

"I have to get up early."

"For what? You don't have to be at work until eight. Are you going to go see him before you go?"

"No. I get up early so I can hit the gym, and take care of a couple other things before I go to work".

"So you get up at what? Four? And work until six thirty, and then go be with him until..."

"I left a little early tonight. I usually stay until nine thirty or ten, sometimes later."

"And then you come home, and do it all again the next day?"

"I don't have much of a choice."

"I'm sorry."

She studies him carefully, but doesn't question him.

He explains on his own, "I'm sorry that I missed everything. I'm sorry that you had to go through this alone, you shouldn't have had to."

She doesn't say anything. A piece of her hair falls into her face. He tucks it behind her ear.

"I don't know how we're ever going to make this work, but I'll do whatever I can. You deserve this, you've worked really hard, and you deserve to have this."

"Have what?" she questions.

"Happiness. I'd like to think that for Chance's sake we could be together, but I know we have a lot of issues. I wouldn't want him to see his parents like I did."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"I never understood why you'd want to be with me."

"Because you're never afraid to say what needs to be said. You take charge, when I can't. You never give up, until you get what you want."

"I don't always know what I want."

"I know what you mean. I should get going so you can go to bed."

"Ok."

"I'm planning on going to see Chance when I wake up in the morning do you want me to call you, and let you know how he's doing?"

"No, just give him a kiss for me."

"Of course," he agrees as he heads for the door. He stops at the door, and turns to look at her. And that's when he sees it. A beautiful, flawless, exterior, slowly cracking down the center on the inside. She stands against the couch as still as a statue. He looks at her and he feels as if he can't breath, and that his chest is hollow. Without a word, he walks over to her. He wraps his arms around her, and holds her tight. She doesn't flinch, or push him away, like he half-expects her to. She places her chin on his shoulder, and her body suddenly relaxes.

It was obvious that whether or not she wanted to be with him romantically in the past, present, or future, in the moment she needed him. She just needed him to be there for her.

"I'm sorry," she says softly as her warm tears fall onto him.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he reassures her. He slowly lets her out of her embrace. He takes her by the hand, "Come on, let's get you to bed." She doesn't resist or argue. She follows him into her bedroom. He pulls back her covers, and she slips out of her slippers, and robe. She slides into the bed, and he throws the covers over her. She rolls onto her side, and he flips off the light. She takes the clip out of her hair, and lays it on the bedside stand. He kisses her temple, and turns to go.

She hugs her pillow tightly. He's in the doorway when her voice tells him, "I don't want to be alone." He steps back into the room, and sheds his jacket, and tie, his shoes, and his button down shirt. He tosses his belt aside, and climbs into bed next to her wearing his slacks, and a t-shirt. He wraps his arm around her, but she moves it aside. She rolls onto her other side, and buries her face in his chest.

"It's too quiet," she tells him.

"Too quiet?" he questions.

"It shouldn't be this quiet. I just feel so empty."

"Because he's out now?"

"He should be here with me. He should be in my arms right now. He really shouldn't even be here yet at all."

"But he is."

"It's unnatural. A mother isn't supposed to bury her children, or leave the hospital without them."

"He'll be home soon enough," he promises.


	28. Bars Full of Broken Bottles

"Hello?" Marc answers his phone.

"Marc I need to speak to Wilhelmina."

"She's in a meeting."

"Now, Marc!"

"Daniel I don't know if she wants to talk to you. I'll have her call you back."

"No, Marc I need to talk to her now. It's an emergency."

"A fashion emergency? You can't decide what to wear for your rehab fashion show?"

"No, it's a real emergency. Why isn't she answering her phone?"

"It's in her office."

"Why?"

"It died, so she's charging it."

"I need you to get her, now."

"She's in a meeting."

"Marc do it, or you won't have a job."

"What is this about?"

"Stop putting your nose where it doesn't belong, just go get Wilhelmina. Now. I need to talk to her now."

"Fine," he puts his phone on hold, and goes into the conference room.

Wilhelmina is mid-sentence when he walks into the room. "Marc I'm in the middle of a meeting this had better be important."

"You've go a phone call."

"You came in here to tell me that?"

"It's an emergency."

"What kind of an emergency?"

"I don't know. I was told that if I didn't bring you the phone that I would be out of a job."

She looks at the clients sitting before her, "Excuse me I have to take this," she exits the room. She takes the phone from Marc, and heads down the hall to her office. "Who is it?" she questions.

"Daniel."

"Why didn't you say that?"

"I didn't think that it mattered."

"Marc you're an idiot," she pushes past him, and goes into her office. She pulls the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she answers.

"I think that you should come down here."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital with the baby."

"What's wrong? Is he ok?"

"He's been having bradycardic episodes. He's having some trouble breathing too. They put him back on oxygen. The neonatalogist seems to think that he's ok, but he's bringing in a cardiologist just to be on the safe side. They're going to take him upstairs for an electrocardiograph. I can handle it if you can't make it..."

"No. I'll be there, just give me fifteen minutes."

"Ok," he agrees.

Wilhelmina goes to apologize to the clients. As she exits the conference room she sees Claire waiting on her.

"Do you need something?" she questions as she heads toward the elevator.

"I need to tell you something."

"Not now Claire."

"Just listen. There is a helicopter on the roof waiting on you."

"You're kidding?"

"No, now go," she insists as the elevator doors open.

When Wilhelmina reaches the roof a silver helicopter is waiting on her. She's ushered onto the helicopter. She's barely seated when it starts moving. She reaches the hospital roof three minutes later. She jumps off the helicopter and jumps on the elevator. The ride to the sixth floor takes seemingly, forever. The doors of the elevator fly open, and she pushes through the crowd of people. She walks as quickly as she can to the N.I.C.U. She suits up, and washes her hands.

She finds Daniel hovering over the isolet that Chance is in.

"What happened?"

"I was just watching him. He was sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to disturb him. I noticed that he looked blue, and then monitors started beeping. He had an episode right before I got here too, that's when they put him back on oxygen. They drew blood, and the cardiologist should be here any minute."

"Do they think something is wrong with his heart?"

"The doctor told me that bradycardic episodes are common in preemies, but since he's just started having them they're a little bit concerned. He said it could be nothing, or it could be an infection, or it could be his heart."

"So you don't know?"

"No."

Hours later Wilhelmina finds herself sitting in a rocking chair staring at her son on the opposite side of his plexiglass prison. Daniel paces back, and forth behind her.

"Stop," she insists.

"Why don't you go home? I'll stay with him."

"No I'll wait."

The doctor joins them. "I've got good news," the doctor tells them.

"Yeah?" Daniel questions.

"His heart is fine, his lungs are fine, he doesn't have an infection."

"So what does that mean?" Wilhelmina questions.

"He's just going to have to be monitored."

"He's been being monitored hasn't he?" Daniel quizzes.

"Yes. All that it really means is that when you guys take him home the monitor is going to have to go with him."

"So what causes him to stop breathing?" Wilhelmina queries.

"He just forgets. Usually just touching him will bring him out of it."

"So are there any long term concerns with this?" Daniel asks.

"He's at a higher risk of S.I.D.S."

"But he should be ok?" Wilhelmina wonders.

"Absolutely. Just watch him. It's most likely going to happen when he's sleeping, or when he's eating."

"Thank you," Daniel gives the doctor a weak smile. The doctor leaves, and Daniel watches Wilhelmina. She stands over the isolet, with her hand on the plexiglass. She stares at Chance as he sleeps.

"Go home," he begs her.

"I'm not going anywhere. He needs me."

"You need rest."

"I'm fine," she lies.

"Wilhelmina, go. I'll stay with him. You've got to go to work in the morning..."

"No..."

"There is no reason for you to miss work. He's fine. I'm here with him, I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't want to leave him."

"You can't stay here. Go home."

"Give me one good reason."

"You're not any good to him if you're too exhausted to take care of yourself."

"I'm fine... really."

"I know that you like to be in control, but you have no control in this situation."

"I just don't want to leave him. I don't want..."

"If anything happens I'll call you."

"And send me a helicopter?"

"Just one of the perks of being a Meade."

"I'll be back first thing in the morning."

"No you won't. You're going to go home and go to bed."

"How? I can't sleep."

"Try. Take a sleeping pill."

"They don't work. I built up an immunity to them years ago."

"Then go have a nice cup of chamomile tea, and take a nice hot bath."

"I hate this."

"Hate what?"

"That I'm too tired to argue."

"Then go," he insists.


End file.
